Warrior's Heart
by Sasha H
Summary: Suki is badly injured while attempting to escape from a fire nation prison and Sokka knows her only hope of survival will come from seeking the moon spirit's help, but he is conflicted over re-visiting the past and asking Yue for help.
1. The Dream

**Warrior's Heart**

**Chapter 1: The dream**

**By Sasha H.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar, or any of its characters**

**Dedication: to NightmareBeforeChristmasFreak, who's been a real help to me as I make this transition to the Avatar section of this website.**

**[better summary: Suki is badly injured while escaping from a Fire nation prison, and Sokka knows her only hope of survival is in taking her to the Northern Water Tribe healers, but he feels strange and guilty about taking Suki to a place that meant so much to him and Yue. His guilt only increases when he goes to the Spirit Oasis and finds that Yue's spirit is still there. Now he must decide between the girl he lost, and the girl who's just barely hanging on.**

**[IMPORTANT: There are many in continuities in this story. Just pay no heed for now, I'll explain at the end of the chapter. Oh, and this starts off as basically a re-write of the end of season 2. just bare with me, please**

It was a dark night. The darkest any of them had ever seen before, and ever would see. Clouds hung in the sky, shielding them from any moonlight above, and city lights from below. Or would there be any city lights on this night? Would the ground be just as black as the desolate midnight out of mourning for the once glorious Ba Sing Se? It seemed fitting, though it was impossible for any of its citizens to know about the demise of the Earth Kingdom. Not Yet, at least. Announcements would be made the next day, for certain. Azula was far too proud to let her great victory be remain unknown.

Or would she hide this night's events from the world as a part of some grand, unknown scheme? There was no way of knowing. But it didn't matter, anyways. Nothing really mattered anymore. What Azula, or Zuko, or even the Fire Lord himself did now was a trivial fact that changed nothing in this wretched war. Aang was dead, or at least he would be soon, and it was silly to even pretend they stood a chance without him. All hope died as the future became intruded upon by unspeakable certainties.

Katara's fingers trembled as she held Aang's still body. She found herself reaching up and tracing the blue arrow tattoo on his head. It had been a symbol of hope. The Last Airbender—The Avatar…and her best friend. Now, her last hope was the sight of his chest rising and falling shallowly with each breath, but even that wasn't as comforting as it should have been. Every breath came shallower and further apart than the last.

Katara became suddenly aware of the warm, wet liquid that covered her hands. She hadn't realized that his wounds had been _bleeding_. The darkness was too dense for her to have seen it. She let the blood run through her fingers, then passed her hand across her face leaving sickening darks streaks across her features. In a morbid, deranged way, it was comforting to have something of him on her skin, embracing and clinging to her as his blood did. It was like a makeshift war paint.

Katara felt a sudden, stray sob slip from between her lips. It was followed by another from the very recesses of her throat, bursting out of her mouth like a popped bubble. What was she doing! She was angry at herself for crying. She wanted to slap herself and bring her to her senses. Mourning prematurely wouldn't help Aang. But what would? That was the problem. She was helpless. Aang was dying right in front of her, and all she could do was watch.

'Just like when Mom died', Katara thought, and remembered the night. Her tears only flowed heavier with this thought. She looked over up at Sokka, who held Appa's reigns, but paid no heed to where they were flying. He just watched Aang with disbelief. Toph held tightly to his arm, so she would not fall off of the giant sky bison. Tears flowed down her cheeks as heavy as katara's, but they were out of fear, rather than mourning. She looked panicked and confused.

"What's going on?" she yelled, her voice breaking. Of course. She couldn't see Aang lying there with a hole in his back. She could hear Katara's Sobs, and feel Sokka's racing heartbeat, and she knew that something terrible had happened, but she had no idea what it was, and it scared her.

Katara wearily turned her head towards the distraught girl. Tears from her glazed-over-eyes left silvery paths down her cheeks, and her body trembled horribly.

Katara tried to find her voice, but when she opened her mouth to speak, only meaningless sounds of grief poured out. She looked back to Sokka, her eyes pleading for him to help her explain this.

"T-tell me what's going on!" Toph stuttered. The silence was unbearable for her. Sokka looked at Aang's body, then at back at Toph.

"Aang is dead," he told her, his voice weighted and scared. Toph's face crumpled in anguish.

"No," Katara's voice suddenly pierced the air like a dagger, "not yet." And she remembered the tiny vile of spirit water that master Pakku had given her. It was Aang's last chance, but Katara wasn't even sure if it would work. She sucked in her breath, and extracted the water from the vile. It glowed in her palm, lighting up everything around it. The water spun in circles in her hand, whirring as she brought it down to Aang's body.

Slowly, she bended the spirit water into his back, and it lit up his entire body. She watched in amazement as burned and damaged organs repaired themselves until the sight was blocked off by a thin, nearly transparent layer of skin that covered what used to be the whole in his back. Aang's arrows glowed, and then faded as quickly as they had lit up.

He didn't move.

Not a muscle.

Not an inch.

Katara was just as still as he was—she didn't even breath for fear of confusing her breaths with his if they ever came. But she must have been too late. Had he died before she had had the chance to save him? She thought he had still been breathing, but had she been mistaken? The spirit water might have had special healing properties, but nothing and no one brought back the dead. Not even if it was the Avatar--The world's last hope. Her body went numb.

"Aang?" she called his name in a futile attempt to bring him back. All was still. "Aang…please…" she begged him. She wanted to shake him or slap him—anything to bring him back—but she resisted her urge, reason telling her it would make no difference, while her heart cried otherwise.

Then, suddenly, Aang's body quivered and sighed. A low groan escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes.

"What happened?" he mumbled, dazed and confused, and barely able to make out Katara's silhouette in the darkness. But Katara couldn't answer him, no matter how much she wanted to. She was laughing and crying both at once, and hugging him much tighter than what was healthy for boy with a whole in his back. Aang yelped in pain, and Katara quickly loosened her grip on him.

"Thank the spirits you're alright," she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. Sokka abandoned Appa's reigns and crawled over to where Aang and Katara sat.

"Is he going to be alright?" Sokka asked, squinting in the darkness to see Aang's form. Katara nodded.

"I think so," Katara mumbled, more to herself than to her brother. "He just needs rest." She thought for a moment. "Go get a sleeping bag for him. He can lie down on Appa's saddle"

Sokka climbed up Appa's back and to the back of his saddle and untied the rope keeping the sleeping bags on. He pulled out Aang's, and then retied the chord. Sokka unrolled the steeping bag, and his sister pulled Aang over to it, then slipped him inside. Before they could even ask him if he needed anything, Aang was asleep.

Sokka climbed back over to Appa's reigns, and Katara sat beside him.

"Where do we go from here?" Sokka asked, looking blankly out at the night sky. He looked for a star to guide him, but they were blocked out by the clouds. He wasn't even sure where they were anymore.

"It doesn't matter," Katara mumbled. "Anywhere—let's just get away from here." She wanted nothing more but to get out of this stupid city.

"Why don't we land for the night? I think we all need some rest." Sokka replied, looking back at Toph who was already sprawled out on the saddle, asleep. "It's been a long day."

"Just get out of the city first. They're on the lookout for us, I'm sure." Katara told him, then fell back into Appa's fur.

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka flew for another few minutes until he was sure that he was past the walls of Ba Sing Se, then he coaxed Appa down to the ground in the center of a forest. He woke up Katara, and Lifted Aang off Appa's saddle, and to the ground. No one dared to wake Toph. The consequences of that could be fatal.

Sokka laid out his sleeping bag last and crawled into it. He was so tired, it didn't take long for sleep to come, and with it came dreams…

_Sokka sat at the top of a hill covered in grass. It was night, but the moon shone bright in the navy sky and illuminated everything around it with its Aura. Even the sun would have paled in comparison to the brilliance of that night's moon. Sokka stared at the orb, thinking of Yue. Could she see him from there? He wondered._

_Sokka looked down at the hill he was sitting on. There, by his had, was a panda lily. It was small, and had escaped his vision before, but now it gleamed brightly in his eyes. He carefully picked the flower, then stood on his toes, reaching the bloom out as far as it would go, offering it to the moon. But she was so far away! He wondered if he would ever reach her. But then, just as he was about to give up hope, Yue appeared before him. She was young and beautiful, and her silver hair licked at her bare shoulders temptingly. She took the flower Sokka offered to her and lifted it to her nose, breathing in its fragrance with a sad smile._

_Wordlessly, she reached out her hand to him. He considered it for a second, then slipped his fingers into hers. The moment their hands touched, the world began to rush around them. They were no longer standing atop a green hilltop, but traveling through blurs of streets and alleyways._

_And then it stopped._

_Sokka looked around. They seemed to be at the mouth of a cave. Trees clouded the entrance, almost hiding it, which explained why it seemed uninhabited. Yue pulled Sokka along into the cave and he noticed lanterns along the walls, illuminating their path. The farther through the cave they went, the more he began to realize that this wasn't a simple cave—it was a prison. Cells were carved into the stone walls, with heavy steal bars, smelted by the fire nation lining their fronts. There must have been fifty cells, but they were all empty. He started to think that the prison had been abandoned, but then, in the very last cell of the row, he saw by the dim light a figure sitting alone in the corner. Yue was walking faster now, almost running, pulling Sokka with her. Sokka's heart raced. They stopped in front of the cell, and Yue nodded. Sokka looked between the bars and saw a girl looking down at the ground, her face hidden by her hair. Her skin was pale and chalky, and a green dress hung loosely around her thin frame. He willed her to look up at them—let them see her face and know who she was._

_And she did._

_The girl's hair gave way to mistrusting and angry face. Her eyes were piercing as she looked up, and her lips were curled down at the edges in a grimace of mistrust and anger. But then, after realizing these were not her captors, but, in fact, her rescuers, her expression changed to one of relief and excitement. _

_But Sokka's recognition of the girl did not bring him relief. It was Suki—Suki was the prisoner, starving in this spirit forsaken cave. He glanced over to Yue, and her eyes calmed him. She stroked the petals of the Panda Lily he had given her, still in her hand, then slipped its stem into Sokka's fingers. He didn't understand. She was giving the flower back? Why? He looked at her, confused, but she just smiled back, then looked over to Suki...and without a word ever being spoken, Sokka understood what Yue wanted him to do._

_Sokka reached out through the bars, the panda lily resting loosely between his fingers, offering the flower that was once Yue's to Suki. She accepted the flower, and her smile widened, but then she vanished. _

"Suki!" Sokka yelled involuntarily as he shot up, awake. He was drenched in sweat, and shaking all over.

Katara peeked her head groggily out of her sleeping bag. She still had Aang's blood wiped across her face, but she didn't notice, and Sokka's mind was buzzing so much, it didn't seem to matter to him.

"What's wrong?" Katara asked sleepily, wishing her brother hadn't woken her.

Sokka didn't answer, but hurriedly rolled his sleeping bag and tugged on his shoes. This caught Katara's attention, and she sat up in her sleeping bag now, worried that whatever it was that had Sokka so worried would be bad news.

"Is the Dai Li coming? Have they found us?" she asked frantically. "Sokka, what's happened?"

"Get up, Katara," was all he said, and she could hear how serious he was. Katara got up, and rolled her sleeping bag, then went to Aang.

"Wake up, Aang," she said softly, not wanting to wake him, but knowing she had to. She shook his shoulder gently until his eyes opened. He stared at her strangely—taking her in. He saw the dried blood on her face, and his face contorted into a look of confusion.

"Wha…What happened last night?" he asked, unconsciously reaching up to touch the blood. Katara shook her head.

"that's not important now," she told him. "I need to get you on Appa's saddle," she told him, before she scooped him into her arms, since he was far too weak to even walk yet, but she struggled to carry him to the bison. Sokka took Aang from her, and easily lifted him onto Appa.

Toph woke up from the noise and looked around, still tired from the night before.

"Are you going to tell us what's going on?" Katara asked, expectantly. Now that she had followed his orders and they were ready to leave, she expected answers.

Sokka didn't reply. He looked behind him. Katara, Aang, and Toph were all on Appa, and their sleeping bags were tied to the saddle. They were ready to go.

"Yip Yip!" Sokka said, and the giant bison growled and took to the air.

"Sokka!" Katara spoke louder now--Partly so she could be heard over the loud sound of rushing wind, and partly because she was getting angry. "We deserve to know why you rushed us out of there like that!"

"Suki" was all Sokka said. He tried to concentrate on finding the cave. He wasn't really sure where they were going, though he assumed it was in a forrest, and somewhere near Ba Sing Se.

"What about Suki?" Katara asked. Sokka groaned, exasperated at her ignorance, though he hadn't even put two and two together until just the night before.

"Do you remember when you found out that Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee were in Ba Sing Se, pretending to be Kyoshi warriors?" Sokka asked. Katara nodded.

"Well, where do you think they got the uniforms?"

Katara thought for a moment.

"Do you think they ambushed Suki and the other warriors?" Katara questioned. Sokka nodded. "And now we're going to go get Suki?" she asked. Again, a nod from Sokka.

Katara sighed. "Sokka…We don't have time for this! We need still need to find a master firebender to teach Aang, and we don't even know if Suki's--" Katara stopped as she saw the look on Sokka's face.

"We don't know if Suki's…what?" Sokka snapped, looking murderous. She had never seen him look angry like this—at least not towards her. Katara sat quietly, afraid to say another word. "Well? Say it!" he ordered.

"Dead," she said sheepishly. With this one word, all the anger drained from Sokka's face, melting away to reveal the undertones of sadness and shame behind his rage. He looked down at the ground, searching for a familiar landmark, then looked back up at Katara.

"Please," he asked quietly with pleading eyes. "Just let me try to find her." He thought for a moment. "Don't let me lose her too."

**---**

**(A/N: I know you're all anxious to go and flame me now, but I'm going to ask that you restrain yourself. I'm leaving my comfort zone of the nightmare before Christmas section to write an avatar story. I'm very afraid of all of you…I feel like a new kid in school, with no friends, and no affiliations. (I've never even read an avatar fan-fiction before!) I don't know what is accepted on here, and what isn't. Please don't scare me away!**

**As for in continuities:: I write how I want to write. I totally cut out the Earth King without explanation, because I don't like him. He's annoying, and I don't want him and his stupid bear in my story (I would have cut out Toph too, but that'd be far too noticeable…and people would riot because she's so well loved). This is written as if season 3 doesn't exist….like this is my own season 3. Screw season 3 (actually, I'm excited as hell for it! XD) So, if it doesn't fit in between the two seasons, I don't care. It's not written to. This story is based on theories I have about season 3 (it started with "I bet Sokka will be worried about a Yue repeat when he goes searching for Suki" and escalated from there), but I'm adding in other ideas I have about what could happen in season 3. I've already completely mapped out every scene for this story, so if some of my guesses come true, it's because I'm a clever little girl, and not because I'm copying what they did on the show. Just wanted you to all know that.**

**Anyways. I hope you liked the first chapter, and continue reading the story.)**


	2. Fallen Warrior

**Warrior's Heart**

**By: Sasha H.**

**Chapter 2: Fallen Warrior**

**Disclaimer: see last chapter**

**Dedication: To Carlie (TheGiantMushroom), who is basically my only true (real-world) avatarded friend. Loves ya, my Hecca Friend!**

* * *

Sokka pressed his body close to the cliff wall, his chest rising and falling quickly as he considered his next move. He was standing at the mouth of the cave from his dreams, collecting himself after the victory of finding it. He hadn't been sure if he'd ever discover it, or if it even truly existed, but there he was, standing amidst the tangle of trees and rock from his vision. Toph and Katara stood beside him, waiting for his signal to move. 

Sokka looked up at the sky. Dusk was settling over them, creating a thick dark cloak for them to travel in. He waited and listened, trying to stretch out his range of hearing as far as it would go, but heard nothing but his own breath.

Sokka peered around the edge of the cliff and into the dark cave carved into it. No one stood watch at its entrance, and Sokka sighed in relief. If they encountered no guards on their way, this would be an easy rescue mission. He began to move forward with a new sense of confidence and security.

"Come on," he whispered to the other two, motioning for them to follow him. Katara and Toph stepped lightly behind him, careful not to make a sound as they walked through the cave.

Katara stared at the cave walls, examining them closely. The entrance, she could tell, had been made naturally, but as they traveled deeper into the cavern, she began to recognize high, square ceilings that could have only been made by earth benders. Man-made tunnels jutted out in almost every direction, turning the cave into somewhat of a labyrinth. Katara wondered if they were traveling in the right direction to get to Suki, but Sokka seemed certain of her location as he led them through the cave.

Sokka suddenly stopped, causing Katara, who had been lost in her own wonderings, to bump into him. Sokka turned to the two that followed him, putting a finger to his lips. He crept slowly to a sharp ledge in the tunnel and looked around it. Prison cells of rock and steel lined the walls, and deep in the back of the row, nearly hidden by shadow, he saw the faint figure of a girl. It was Suki—he knew it. Sokka examined her for a moment.

Suki sat with her legs pulled to her chest, and her chin resting on her knees. The fingers of her right hand tapped compulsively at the ground, bloodying their tips as they scraped against rock. She was tired, but she would not let herself sleep. Sleeping left her vulnerable, and vulnerability was something she couldn't risk in this place. It was when the guards went after her—while they thought the innocence of slumber left her unaware and unprepared. They had been wrong before, and she had been able to fight them off when they came, but now she wasn't so sure she could get away. She was weak from hunger and injury, and knew her only defense now was constant vigilance. Though now, as she grew increasingly exhausted, she knew shewould soon have to give in and let all the horrible, unspeakable acts that the guards plotted in their heads happen. She couldn't stay awake forever.

But she could stay awake for now, and she stared at the ground, listening for the signals and warnings that came in the form of voices and footsteps. Her ears were all she trusted now, for her eyes were treacherous and taunted her with delusions of things lurking in the shadows that engulfed her.

Footsteps.

Suki heard footsteps coming from around the corner and she tried to guess, just by the sound of their shoes on the ground, what this person's purpose for travel was. It was almost like a game to her now. These feet were quick and deliberate. There was no hidden sadism in this man's step, so she felt sure that she was not in danger of a beating. The rips of flesh in her back stung just at the thought of it. But the only intentions this man's footsteps conveyed to her was that he was there to bring her food, and then leave.

Sokka hadn't heard the footsteps, though, and moved towards Suki, but a hand shot out, grabbing his collar and pulling him back behind the ledge.

"Someone's coming," Toph whispered to him, letting go of his shirt. Again, Sokka peered around the corner, and saw that Toph was right. A man came around the corner on the other side of the corridor and stopped in front of Suki's cell.

The man wore an Earth Kingdom uniform, but it was obvious by his facial features that he was Fire Nation. He was holding a bowl in his hands, and was glaring into the depths of the cell.

"Get up," the man barked, startling Suki and making her jump slightly when he spoke. After recovering from the initial shock, she sighed and stood up, turning to face the man. He thrust the bowl through the bars and into her open hands. She turned to sit down again, but he caught her wrist and wrenched her back around, food slopping out of her bowl as she turned.

"What? No 'thank you'?" the guard asked tauntingly. Suki was silent, and her face was as unreadable as stone. "We've already had to teach you respect," he reminded her, "Will your next lesson have to be in gratitude?" The thin slashes that ran across Suki's back stung, and they told her to keep quiet.

"You should be thankful that you're even being fed," the guard continued. "It was very gracious of theEarth Queen to let you live. She has not been known to keep prisoners…you should be grateful."

"Azula has done nothing that I should be grateful for!" Suki yelled. The guard cocked an eyebrow at this outburst, and Suki immediately wished she could have swallowed her tongue.

"You will refer to Her Majesty as the Earth Queen!" the guard ordered.

"I will never call her that!" Suki muttered, and the fire-nation man raised his hand as if to strike her. Suki flinched, preparing herself for the blow, but it didn't come. She glanced up nervously, and the man started to laugh. He laughed loud and long at the fear he caused in her, and Suki felt any fight she had left in her disappear. When the man stopped laughing, he grabbed Suki's chin with his long, dirty fingers and forced it right and left, turning and examining her face.

A sly smile crawled across the guard's face as his mind devised a plan.

"You're quite a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he said, as if to himself. Suki was silent, but her glaring eyes yelled and spat in a way her mouth never could. "I'll bet you've got a boy back home, don't you?" this was a bluff on the guard's part. He had no idea if it would be true, but her eyes quieted as he said this and he knew he had hit her soft spot.

"But you're considered missing in action, and you've got a life sentence on your hands—you're never getting out of this place." He reminded her. "I wonder how long he'll wait for you…Surely it won't be long before he figures you're dead, and finds someone else."

"The other Kyoshi warriors know I'm alive!" she told him triumphantly, "They'll find me and get me out of here!"

"The other warriors are dead!" the guard yelled quickly. It was a lie, but he had the girl exactly where he wanted her, and knew she would believe him. Suki glanced around her cell in confusion, searching for answers. How could it be? How could they all have been killed? Suki felt suddenly alone and scared. Her eyes became glossy with unshed tears as she thought of all her friends murdered by Azula. She would never let her tears fall in front of this man, though. She couldn't show him her weaknesses.

"But maybe," the guard said, the corners of his mouth slipping into a smile, "Maybe I could get you out of here." He thought for a moment, searching for the perfect words. He found them, and his fingers left Suki's chin, dragging across her jaw, and down her neck. Suki felt herself shiver as his fingers moved down her chest and to her breasts. "Maybe we could make a deal?" The guard asked, finally getting to his point.

Suki's expression was pained and terrified. Not only was she afraid simply of what the guard was implying, but she also scared herself by having to consider her answer. Was her freedom worth what this man was suggesting? In a way, it was. She would be in there forever if she didn't do something to get out of the prison. But could she trust him to keep his word? If she agreed, and performed her side of the bargain, would he then go back on his promise and leave her there? His choice of words, '_Maybe_ I could get you out of here', rang through her ears, and she became certain that this man would not follow through, and it would be pointless to make any deals with him.

Her fingers trembled around the bowl of food she was holding, and it gave her and idea.

"I'd rather die!" Suki shrieked, throwing the bowl of food at the guard's head with all her strength. It shattered as it hit his skull, slicing long cuts across his forehead.

But the guard was quick to react. Before Suki could move away from him, his hand left hand shot in between the bars and grabbed both her wrists. Suki struggled to get away, but the man's grip on her was too tight. He pulled her forcefully towards him, then backhanded her across the face, causing the side of her head bash into one of the steel bars of her cell. Suki went dizzy for a moment, almost losing consciousness. The guard let go of her wrists, thrusting her backwards and making her fall to the ground.

"You might just get your wish," the guard growled through the bars. "No rations for three days!" he yelled, and then added, his voice lowering substantially "and you can count on a lesson in self restraint tomorrow." The guard turned on his heals and headed in the direction from which he came, muttering to himself as he wiped the blood from his forehead.

Suki heard her stomach growl, and she groaned. She reached up to the side of her head where it had _hit_ the bar of her cell. She cursed as she felt the blood coming from her wound, and wiped her hand on her dress, adding to the dark red stains that covered it. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure standing in front of her cell. She assumed it was another guard, and spat "What do you want? Are you here to take a swing at me too?"

"Suki," the figure said quietly, and she instantly knew this wasn't a guard. None of them knew her name, and none of them could ever talk as sweetly as this person did. Suki recognized the voice too, but she was afraid to look up. She was terrified that she might have imagined it, and look up to see no one there. It had happened before, and it killed her to be disappointed like that.

But what if he really was there?

"Sokka?" Suki asked quietly, daring herself to look up. And there he was, standing on the other side of her cell with his hands on the bars, looking down at her. "Sokka!" she yelled. Suki quickly stood up and reached through the bars of her cell, wrapping her arms around him. Sokka held out a hand and cupped her cheek in his palm. She closed her eyes, basking in the pleasure of his touch. Tears that had been left unshed fell now, leaving thin trails down her cheeks that glimmered in the soft glow of the lanterns around them.

Katara coughed, hinting to them that this was not the time, and certainly not the place for a blissful reunion. Suki laughed, embarrassed, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. She hadn't even noticed Katara and Toph standing there.

"Stand back," Toph told Suki. Suki stepped away from the bars, and Toph used her bending to peel them away. Suki walked out of the cell, and then turned to look at it for a moment. It was strange to see it from the outside, and strange to be free. Suki quickly became lost in thought, but Sokka grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her mental wanderings.

Even when they began to quickly make their way back through the cave, Sokka didn't let go of Suki's hand. Even if he tried to let go, Suki would never let him. His fingers, meshed with hers, felt like a reassuring secret as they walked behind Toph and Katara.

Toph held out a hand to the two, motioning for them to stop.

"What is it?" Sokka asked Toph concentrated for a moment, then whispered, "There are four guards around the corner. They aren't expecting us. We can ambush them." Sokka nodded, smiling a little. He knew it would have been best if they didn't come across any guards on their way out, but he couldn't help enjoying the thrill of battle. Sokka pulled out the boomerang from the pouch on his back, and looked back at the others.

"Are you ready?" he whispered to them. The three nodded, and they ran out at the guards all at once, Sokka taking up the lead. He let out a long, loud war cry and threw his boomerang at one of the guards. It looped around and hit the man in the back of the head, and the fight began. Each of them were fighting a guard, and Sokka often looked back at their progress as he fought.

Suki was fighting a particularly broad-shouldered man. He had been turned around when they ran at the guards, so when Suki reached him, she jumped and kicked, aiming to hit his back and knock him forward, but he turned and caught her foot just as she was about to strike. Suki fell, but quickly got to her feet and ducked as the man shot a fire blast at her head.

Suki grabbed the man's shirt as she came back up, pulling him around and slamming him into the cave wall. She moved to jam her elbow in his head, but the guard maneuvered out of her grip, shooting fire from his foot and thrusting it circularly at her feet. Suki jumped, missing the fire by inches.

Suki bent down, and then sprung up, hitting the guard with a fish-tail kick. Her right foot hit his face as she spun, but when her left foot turned to make impact, the guard caught it, causing Suki to hit the ground face first. The guard, still holding her ankle, dragged her closer to him, then let go of her foot, casting her leg off to the side and making it collide hard with a rock. Suki heard a loud snap.

Her forehead was bleeding, and her eyes were watering, but she knew she had to keep going. Suki used her arms to push her onto her side. Just as she started to sit up, the guard hit her with a blast of fire. Suki hadn't seen it coming in time and couldn't avoid the blow.

The fire blast knocked Suki back to the ground, then engulfed her. It took Suki's brain a moment to comprehend what had just happened, but then it hit her—she had been numb to the flames a second before, but now she could feel them licking at her arms and face, burning her and peeling away her skin with its mere touch. She looked frantically for a way out of the blaze, but the combination of the smoke and the pain took away all her perception of the situation. She cried out in agony and fear, becoming hysteric as she realized the hopelessness in her situation.

Smoke twisted around her, blackening her vision and stifling her cries until the warrior fell silent and still to the dirt. Her skin continued to burn and melt as she lay motionless on the ground. The guard who had hit her with the fire blast laughed, withdrawing the flame. Fire still danced in the girl's hair, and across her dress, but the man wasn't about to put any effort into putting it out. He was like a cat playing with a mouse. But now the mouse was dead, and he had lost interest. He began to walk away, leaving his companions to take care of the other three.

The guard turned back after a few steps to checking to see if any of the other guards would be walking with him when a fist, seeming to come out of no where, hurled into his face. The man stumbled back in surprise, clutching a bloody nose, but before he could retaliate, his attacker, Sokka, had run off towards the girl he had burned.

Sokka scooped up Suki's body in his arms and ran towards the mouth of the cave.

"We need to get out of here!" he yelled at the other two and they ran after him, shooting attacks of earth and water behind them, holding off the guards as they ran.

When they got out of the cave, Sokka stopped for a moment looking around frantically. Katara looked at Suki's motionless body, then back up at her brother. His eyes were wet and glistening, but he tried not to let her see.

"Sokka," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "I'm so sorry." Sokka didn't reply, or even look at her. He just stared at the horizon, his eyes searching.

"Where are Aang and Appa?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"Strait ahead," she told him, "Into the trees." She pointed towards a small opening between two trunks, and they ran towards it.

Branches and leaves whipped at Sokka's face and arms as he ran, but he didn't even notice them. He just ran, staring straight ahead towards the white mass that was Appa that he could barely make out through the branches and the darkness.

"Did you find her?" Aang called as the three ran towards him. But the closer they came, the more sickeningly obvious that the object in Sokka's arms was a girl. They climbed onto Appa, and Aang coaxed him skyward with a quick "_Yip-yip!_", then turned to see what had happened.

Sokka still held Suki in his arms. Her entire body was burned, but she had gotten the worst of the blaze on her left side. Her skin was red, and twisted, and foreign, though this was hard to see under the blood and char that covered her. Sokka noticed her chest rising and falling in breath, and couldn't help but wonder if this was a good thing. Now, it only seemed like she would suffer before she died. he thought that he shouldn't be holding her. His touch was probably hurting her, he thought. He should to let go—he needed to let go—but he couldn't. Sokka knew it was selfish and childish not to put her down and let her body rest, but he needed the reassurance that she was still there. The others sat around him and Suki, but none of them mentioned it. So Sokka sat, though surrounded by people, feeling very much alone in his shame and sorrow.

* * *

**In true "A Prized Possession" style, a song to connect to the chapter::**

**"_Every story, new or ancient; Every tale, or work of art;\_**

**_Is a tale of Human failing. _**

**_Is a Tale of Love at heart. _**

**_This is a story of a Love that flourished in a time of hate-- _**

**_Of lovers no tyranny could separate. _**

**_Love set into motion on the Nile shore. _**

**_Destiny ignited by an act of war" _**

**_From "Every story is a love story_" from Aida **

…**..LOL! First off, I want to say how TOTALLY stoked I am at the FANTASTIC reaction I got on chapter 1. I was seriously thinking "well, maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get one review" but I really thought I wouldn't get any at all….but I got EIGHT (and all of them were very nice and encouraging)! And not only that, but everyone who reviewed liked chapter 1 enough to add it to their alerts (and some other people alerted without reviewing, so I got 11 story watches!!!) This all was so exciting and got me really pumped about writing the rest of this story!**

**And Teehee…Aang was the getaway van guy….Sokka should have run up screaming "WE'VE GOT THE GOODS! DRIVE, MAN, DRIVE!"**


	3. Whisper of The Heart

**Warrior's Heart**

**By Sasha H.**

**Chapter 3: Whisper of the Heart**

**Dedication: To Chris!!!! He's one of my best friends, and they're sending him away to go to some private Christian school an hour away :( **

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* * *

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The four sat in a silence so dense that it was almost palpable in the chilling night air, only reinforcing the sense of sudden loneliness that had fallen over the group. Emotional pleas seemed to cry out from every heart, but were received by no one as all eyes avoided each other, resisting showing their weaknesses.

All of them had known all along that the journey they were on was a dangerous one, and deep down in the recesses of their hearts they had known that some of them might not make it through to see the end of this war, but none had ever truly accepted this fact, and it was startling to all of them to see it happening now.

Katara observed her brother in morbid curiosity as he held Suki's body in his arms. His face was contorted into a strange expression of so many emotions that it would have been impossible for Katara to pick out and name just one. His fingers trembled numbly around Suki's shoulders as he was torn between wanting to hold her and not wanting to hurt her.

It was strange, seeing this side of Sokka. He had always worn a mask of bravery—the mask of the warrior—but now he showed the true weakness behind this veil. She could see the fear in his eyes and hear the pain in his breathing…and somehow, it empowered her. Katara suddenly found her mind running at full spend, searching through every crevice of her brain, looking for any piece of knowledge she could find about burns and how to treat them.

"Aang," she said, bringing everyone abruptly out of the silence that had enclosed them all a moment before. Aang looked up at her in surprise, noticing her standing over his shoulder for the first time. "I need you to find us somewhere to land for the night—somewhere near water." Aang nodded and crawled up Appa's haunches to grab his reins.

"Toph, could you monitor Suki's heart rate?" Katara asked.

"Yeah," Toph replied and placed a hand on Suki's chest, feeling her racing heart beat beneath her fingertips.

"Good. Tell me if you feel any sudden changes," Katara told her, then turned to her brother. He didn't look up at her, or even seem to notice that she had started talking in the first place. She thought better of pulling him away from Suki, and went off in search of rags herself. After a futile hunt through all the packs and bags tied to Appa's saddle, Katara began ripping off pieces of her dress to use instead. She then crawled back over to where Sokka, Suki, and Toph all sat and pulled out her pouch of water. She wet her rags, chilling them with her breath, and then reached out a hand to press the cool rags against Suki's forehead.

As the rags touched Suki's wounds, Toph suddenly felt Suki's heart break into a frantic beating, and her breaths became loud and gasping.

"She's awake!" Toph cried out, partly in surprise and partly in urgency. Katara winced. She couldn't even imagine the pain the girl would suffer now that she was conscious.

Katara quickly pulled the injured girl away from a reluctant Sokka and into her arms where she could better care for her. Suki's body seemed to move against her will as she thrashed and rolled about in pain and semi-consciousness. Katara continued to press her cold cloth to Suki's forehead while she did her best to still Suki's body.

"Can't you do something?" Sokka cried desperately as he looked down at Suki.

"I'm doing the best that I can!" his sister yelled in return, trying her hardest to calm the gasping, writhing girl in her arms. "Aang! Haven't you found someplace for us to land yet?" she barked impatiently.

"I think I see something," Aang replied, squinting as he looked into the distance. Katara remained caring for the injured warrior. After a few minutes, Katara had managed to calm Suki's thrashing into quiet tears and trembling fingers, and she sat, wiping blood from any part of the girl's face and arms that weren't too burned to touch.

Suki tried to look up at the girl tending to her, but her head felt heavy and it hurt to lift it, so she didn't try. And even if she had, it would have been impossible to see through the ash that filled her eyes and clouded her vision. Suki could only make out the faint silhouettes of her companions, and even then they were sometimes blocked out by bright white spots that danced tauntingly around her eyesight. She closed her eyes, giving up on her struggle to see, and wishing she would just die.

For she still could feel the fire.

She knew the flames had been put out long ago, but she could still feel them licking at her flesh, tearing it off of her body over and over again. Behind her eyelids, she could even see the flames still. They swirled and writhed all around her, showing her no escape from the torture of their grasp.

Suki wanted to cry out. She could no longer see even the outlines of her companions when she opened her eyes, and she wanted to know that they were still there.

But she bit her lip instead, whimpering as she lay curled up in Appa's saddle. She wanted to get away from the fire that engulfed her mind—to leave her skin behind, and crawl out of the flames—but she knew there was no escape from the inferno that surrounded her, seeping in through her eyes and into her mind, drowning her in the blaze.

Her teeth bit so hard into her lip now that the skin broke, and blood dribbled down her chin. Suki heard someone curse, and felt nimble fingers moving her lip from her teeth and wiping the blood away.

Moments later, someone picked her up, and Suki let out a shriek of surprise and pain. The person nearly dropped her in sudden shock, but held on though they were shaking fiercely now.

"Make an earth tent, Toph!" Suki heard Katara yell. Her voice sounded strange—agitated and anxious all at once—and she knew that it did not come from the person carrying her. Since Aang was injured, and Toph was obviously busy making an earth tent, she decided that it must be Sokka holding her. He was shaking terribly, and it horrified Suki to feel how frightened he was. How badly had she been hurt? Of course, she could feel her injuries, but there was no way she could see the extent of them. There had been many times before that her injuries had not been nearly as bad as they felt, but judging by Sokka's racing heart and shaking fingers, this was not one of them.

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka couldn't sleep.

He had been up for hours now, tossing and turning, waiting for the sweet relief of slumber take over him, but sleep was elusive that night, and every time it seemed to be within his grasp, nightmares would rip him back into the realm of consciousness.

And now Sokka was afraid to close his eyes, not wanting to see the images that waited for him just behind his eyelids. It was a nightmare that Sokka had seen many times before. He had never told Katara of it, though he knew she saw it too. He had heard her cry out at night enough times to know that she saw the dream—the memory—as often as he did. She had even told him about it one frosty morning many years ago, but she had made him promise that he wouldn't mention it to anyone, not even Dad. Sokka never mentioned the dream after that, and over the years, she had forgotten that she had ever confided in her brother.

But Sokka remembered. The memory still stung fresh for him like a new wound, though it was the oldest one he had.

The burning tents were what stood out most vividly to Sokka. They were always the beginning of his nightmare.

He remembered pulling an eight-year-old Katara by the hand back to the village after seeing the black snow falling from the sky, and as they rounded the top of the hill he could see the blaze that engulfed his tribe, dancing atop all the tents. Katara stopped, her eyes wide in wonderment and terror as she stared at the village below.

"Come on, Katara!" Sokka yelled, tugging at his sister's hand and dragging her behind him as they ran to the village. Sokka braced himself as he broke through into the sea of frantic runners and yellers. People weaved desperately in and out of the burning tents, calling out the names of their loved ones in the hopes of finding them before they were hurt.

"What's happening?" Katara cried out in confusion, but Sokka barely heard her amidst all the other yelling and screaming.

Sokka didn't have to answer her, though, for as she asked her question, a fire nation soldier came into view. When the villagers saw him, they immediately scattered away in fear, leaving empty patches of sooty snow wherever the soldiers walked.

"Katara!" the cry broke through all the others. Sokka recognized the voice instantly as his mother's, though it sounded strained with fear and desperation. Sokka looked around to see where her voice was coming from, but he couldn't see her. "Sokka!" the voice screamed again.

"Mom!" Sokka called back, weaving in between the other people in the frenzy, with Katara at his heels. As he ran, he saw a villager already laying face down in the snow. His body had been trampled and kicked in the madness, but the scorch marks on the sides of his face told him that he had died long before that. This wasn't the moment to mourn the dead, though. Preservation of life was the only concern now as terrified mothers called for their children amidst the flames and smoke.

"Mom!" Sokka yelled out again as he finally saw her staggering through the crowd. She looked up and saw him, then broke into a run at her two children.

And in her haste, she didn't see the fire nation soldier crossing her path.

Sokka watched as his mother ran into the man. She stumbled backwards, but just as she regained herself, the soldier hit her across the face and she fell back to the snow, her cheek bleeding. The soldier shot a stream of fire at his mother—

--And that was the last time that Sokka ever saw her alive.

And now Suki lay in the tent across from his with the same burns as his mother.

Images of burning tents and burning people waited for Sokka behind his eyelids.

And Sokka couldn't sleep.

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka sat at the edge of a river not far from their campsite, his hands fumbling with the ribbon he used to tie back his ponytail. He twisted it in his fingers, knotting and unknotting it subconsciously as he stared out across the water. The crescent moon reflected off of the river's surface, and Sokka couldn't help but stare at it. It was impossibly beautiful and bright that night—lively in an otherwise moribund world—though it served as an almost taunting reminder of just how unpredictable fate was.

But the bright moon did not mock his pain or laugh at the irony that seemed to fill Sokka's life. It simply sat in the sky, staring vigilantly down at the boy.

Sokka looked guiltily away from the moon. It felt almost like a betrayal to be staring at it so longingly, while Suki lay injured in a tent not far from where he sat. For what it was worth, he had tried to stay with Suki in the tent where Katara and Toph were doing their best to heal her, but Katara had immediately sent him out, banishing him to his own tent, where she said he should be taking care of Aang.

But Sokka had felt like he was going to go insane, lying awake in his sleeping bag while Aang slumbered peacefully at his side. Fear and nerves had urged him to go walking. His destination didn't matter—all he desired was a moment to think, which was something he couldn't seem to do with Aang by his side. The boy was fine, so Sokka had felt no shame in leaving him alone in the tent and walked out to the edge of the river. He was the Avatar after all, and he could take care of himself, injured or not.

Sokka's eyes glanced back up at the moon. It provided too much comfort for him to look away for long. It was strange, for he had never been a spiritual person. While others would find comfort in praying to the spirits in times of need, Sokka searched for ways to fix things on his own, preferring his own cunning to that of an unseen force.

But how would his cunning help him now? He could try to be optimistic like his sister and tell himself that things would be alright—that Suki would make it through, and everything would go back to how it had been before, but that would have crossed the line that separated optimism into lying. He knew that even if she did live, things would never go back to normal. It was futile to hope for a full recovery.

But Katara had told him before that the spirits worked in mysterious ways. Sometimes, she said, when you need a miracle, it never hurts to ask. But that was silly, and Sokka knew it. He had long since grown out of such fairytales and nonsense.

But maybe, considering the circumstances, just this once she was right? Sokka didn't have time to consider it though, for he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his solitude. He turned to see Katara standing over him.

"Shouldn't you be taking care of Aang?" she asked tiredly, sitting down beside him. She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees, and stared out across the water.

"Shouldn't you be taking care of Suki?" Sokka retorted bitterly. Katara didn't look at him. If only he knew what she had been through that night! She had spent hours trying to cool Suki's skin and relieve her pain, but nothing she tried had worked. These burns were so different and so much more extensive than any kind she had ever tried to heal before, and she had no idea what to do or where to start. She was scared to death that she'd do something wrong, and it would cost Suki her life.

So Katara was stuck with her only safe treatment—the wet, chilled rags she had been placing across Suki's body for hours. But Katara had begun to think that this was working. Suki had calmed down, and she looked like she might even be able to fall asleep… And that's when she started to vomit. Katara had begun to cry out of frustration and pity, tipping back Suki's head, and pouring water from her pouch down the girl's throat. It wasn't long before Suki had emptied the contents of her stomach and began to dry heave, hacking up nothing but her own blood.

After a while, Suki's vomiting had subsided and Suki fell asleep, her exhaustion conquering over her pain. Katara took the opportunity to go to the river and clean her rags, wash the sick off her dress, and escape the terror for just a moment. She had never envied Toph's blindness until that night. Witnessing a strong, brave warrior like Suki be reduced to such a small and fragile creature was almost more than she could bear, and Toph was lucky she couldn't see it.

Katara began to wash her rags in the river, and the cold water felt nice on her fingers. She wiped some of it across her face then looked skyward, allowing the cold water to drip down her neck.

"How is she?" Sokka asked. He asked it suddenly and quickly, as if he had put a lot of consideration upon whether he would even say it at all, and Katara tilted her neck, looking awkwardly up at him.

What did you say in a time like this? Did you tell the truth? Were you optimistic? She didn't know. She sat for a moment, examining the palms of her hands, wasting time before she had to answer. How strange it was that finding the answer to such a simple question could be so difficult!

"I'm doing the best that I can…" Katara started, searching desperately for the right words; "but there's not much I can do"

"What do you mean?" Sokka asked. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he turned from the moon to look at his sister.

"I just…" Katara fumbled over her words. How could she put this softly? "She's not doing so well." Perhaps what this situation called for was honesty? "It's been a really rough night…I've done everything I can think of to help her, but nothing's working, and…" Katara looked up at her brother, taking a deep breath before she continued, "…and I think we're losing her."

Sokka looked down at the ground, resting his head in the palm of his hand. He had known that this would be her answer long before he had even asked the question, but it still stung to hear it come from her lips—So grave and finalized. Sokka could feel himself shaking again.

"So…so what do we do now?" he asked, though his voice was broken and uneven. He wouldn't look up at Katara. His eyes stung with tears, and he couldn't let her see—he was a warrior.

"I don't know what I can do, short of taking her to the healers at the North Pole," Katara said. It was one of those funny, unintentional things that can sometimes come out of a person's mouth, though it seemed like the spirits themselves had placed it on their tongue.

"That's it!" Katara shouted suddenly, startling Sokka. She turned to him, excited now. She grabbed his hand and made him look at her. "That's what we'll do!" she told him. "We'll take her to the North Pole! They have the best healers in the world there, Sokka! They'll know what to do!"

Again, Sokka's eyes narrowed. How curious it was that she was referring to the North Pole as a place of healing—that certainly wasn't how he thought of it. Sokka had always regarded it a place of loss and mourning, and it seemed almost morbid that Katara should suggest they take Suki there.

But her logic was sound, and Sokka wouldn't argue any chance to save Suki, no matter how many bad memories it could provoke.

But Katara didn't bother to give her brother a chance to reply.

"We can leave tomorrow morning," she told him. "It shouldn't take too long to get there on Appa if we don't make any stops."

Sokka nodded, then looked back up at the moon again. He studied it, and tried to think of nothing else—to avoid thinking of Yue; to avoid thinking of Suki. Through his wonderings he noticed that the moon was so bright that the stars around it were nearly invisible in comparison, but as he looked back, away from the moon, the stars became brighter, and the designs they made in the sky were entrancing. It seemed like a sign, almost--like a symbolic reference to something his mind couldn't understand. He stored the thought in the back of his head, thinking that maybe the answer would come to him one day.

Katara followed her brother's gaze, and her excitement over the brilliance of her plan subsided.

"I…I forgot" Katara said softly, looking at the moon now too. "Will you be alright?"

Sokka nodded, though, truthfully, his well-being walked hand-in hand with Suki's.

* * *

"_**And it came to me then that every plan  
Is a tiny prayer to father time  
As I stared at my shoes in the ICU  
That reeked of piss and 409  
And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself  
That I've already taken too much today  
As each descending peak on the LCD  
Took you a little farther away from me  
Away from me **_

Amongst the vending machines and year-old magazines  
In a place where we only say goodbye  
It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend  
On a faulty camera in our minds  
And I knew that you were a truth I would rather lose  
Than to have never lain beside at all  
And I looked around at all the eyes on the ground  
As the TV entertained itself

'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room  
Just nervous faces bracing for bad news  
And then the nurse comes 'round and everyone lift their heads  
But I'm thinking of what Sarah said  
That love is watching someone die

So who's gonna watch you die?_**"**_

"**What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie (which is only like my favorite band EVER!---next to the Beatles)**


	4. the delusional heart

**Warrior's Heart**

**By Sasha H.**

**Chapter 4: The arrival/the delusional heart**

**Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to ****Ian Gainsborough****, who is not only the first reviewer for this story, but also, after his lovely and helpful review, became its beta…and a better beta, I don't think I could find! I am probably the neediest author it has ever been his misfortune to know…constantly asking him what he thought about every single part of every single chapter, and complaining about how terrible I think every single part is….but he seems to put up with me, and definitely fulfills my apatite for feedback. He's my first beta, but I know I could not ask for a better one!

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**Part 1: The Arrival**

So curious is the moment that one first looks, unknowing, upon the face of a prospective lover. It is strange that that one moment—that one glance—could be the spark of something that could last for a lifetime.

For just that instant, all the trials and adversities of days gone by are forgotten, and only the simple potential of new love fills the heart. It is in that moment that the future can be told from another's eyes—a story of every minute of happiness and every tear; every beginning and every ending to come can be seen in just a quick glimpse, if one can remember to look for it.

Sometimes, a love can be won and lost in a single glance, while other times, the future in another's eyes can foretell a love that will surpass all time. But these premonitions are never seen by the two it involves. The moment comes and passes so quickly that it is always forgotten until the opportunity is just a little too late.

But perhaps it is best that they are not seen? If two were to glance into each other's eyes, and one were to see what the future held for the both of them, would they even stay to experience it? Would all the hardships outweigh the opportunities for happiness, and detour one from ever beginning the journey that this one glance preceded? Or would the future prove to be unsatisfying, and be abandoned in the hopes of finding something better?

But even after seeing the obstacles that would lie in their path, some would still choose to stay, and this would be the start of the purest love of them all.

Or at least that's what one of the old women of the village had told Suki. It was like a fairy tale of sorts that had been passed down from warrior to warrior, and in time had become fact out of its own notoriety. Suki thought of it now as her body lay still and quiet out of exhaustion in Sokka's arms, though her mind raced faster than it ever had before.

She wondered if she had seen anything in Sokka's eyes when she first met him. But, of course, why would she have even looked? At first glance, she hadn't recognized Sokka as a lover, or even a friend—just an arrogant boy from the Southern Water Tribe. How strange it was that she should end up now, fighting death in his arms.

But she couldn't help wondering now, what future she would have seen in his eyes if she had only thought to look for it? What ending would they have shown her? Was this her ending—flying to some far away nation, and suffering an untimely demise? Or did his eyes show a happier conclusion?

Whatever her ending may be, she wished it would happen soon. It was a horrible thing to think, and she knew that she didn't really mean it. She wanted to live, but her want for relief from her burns cried out a little bit stronger.

But perhaps she deserved this? She had never thought herself a wicked person, but she wondered if it could simply be naivety or youth that made her think this. Perhaps all she knew to be good and right was just the opposite? Were her morals confused, and her perspective flip-flopped to justify herself and her own actions? Would that make the men who had taught her 'lessons' back in the fire nation prison good and pure? But this was a thought she would not accept. There was nothing in her mind that could twist them into decent and righteous people. So perhaps they were all equally wicked? After all, they were all participating in a war in which people were killed daily on both sides. If that wasn't wickedness, what was?

But this couldn't be true. Not everyone who fought in this war was terrible and corrupt. She thought of the boy who was cradling her in his arms. Was he wicked?

Suki turned her head to look at Sokka, rolling it lazily upward for just a glance. No, she decided, Sokka could never be wicked or vile. He seemed to be made of innocence and moonlight.

And his hands felt so nice on her skin! Of course, the pressure of his fingertips was unpleasant, but it was the temperature of his hands that she pleasured in. They were comparatively cool on her skin, but not like Katara's cold rags. Katara's rags stung and bit at her flesh, sometimes feeling like they caused more harm than good, but Sokka's hands were perfect. His fingers were cool and calming and she wanted them to stay on her forever. She couldn't think of anything that could bring the relief that Sokka's touch brought.

But then, Sokka's hands were replaced by another's, still gentle, but not as sweet and careful towards her as his. These hands grabbed at her waist and began to slip her into one of the warm, fur-lined sleeping bags that they always kept tied to Appa's saddle. Suki wiggled and rolled her way out of it in protest. She already felt like she was on fire. Putting her in one of those sleeping bags would feel like the equivalent of putting her in an oven. The hands were persistent, though, and every time she wormed out of the sleeping bag, she found herself back in it.

"Katara!" Sokka said. His voice was a strange mix of exasperation, anger, and concern. "Can't you see she doesn't want to be in that thing? She's warm enough without it. Just give her back to me!"

"We're getting close to the North Pole, Sokka," his sister began to tell him; "It's freezing out! Do you want her to die of hypothermia before we even get there?"

"She's not going to get hypothermia! She's burning up!" Sokka argued, merely feeding at his desperation to have Suki back in his arms.

"Her skin is damaged, and it can't hold in heat, Sokka. She feels like she's burning up, but can't you see her shivering? She's losing all her body heat," Katara told him; "She needs to stay in there."

Having been undoubtedly beaten in this argument, Sokka did not reply, but settled on discontentedly watching Suki mumble incoherent pleas for freedom instead. He wanted to hold her—to comfort her—but that would be childish and stupid to risk her life for his own needs.

-x-x-x-x-

The four sat in silence around Suki for a long time. It seemed almost inappropriate to speak in a time like this unless one had something important to say, but none of them did, so they refrained from making a sound. Every now and then, Toph would mutter something under her breath to Katara, but it was too soft for Sokka to hear, and it only added to his feeling of alienation, rather than cure it as conversation might have.

But Sokka couldn't help but notice that Aang was sitting quietly to himself also. The boy was shivering slightly as the northern winds whipped across his skin, and he held tight to his arms, rubbing them subconsciously to warm himself. He looked out across the water as they flew, his eyes distant and searching.

Aang was thinking of their previous trip to the Northern Water tribe. They had been excited that time—he remembered the feeling. They had joked and laughed, and Sokka had even offered some sweets he had bought at the Fire Day's Festival as a prize to whomever spotted an iceberg first. Katara had won, but spit out the first sweet she tried, finding it unpalatable to her tongue, and gave the rest to Aang.

Aang had always thought upon this as a fond memory, but it staled now as they traveled North for a second time. There was no happiness or laughing today—only sorrow and estrangement.

But Aang still found himself searching the horizon for the first iceberg. It was foolish, of course, and he wouldn't even mention anything if he did see it, but it was all he could do to keep his mind occupied on their long journey. The words of Chief Arnook ran through his mind over and over again: "The stillness before battle is unbearable." Somehow, theses words seemed appropriate now.

"I see an iceberg," Katara said, piercing the silence suddenly and beating Aang at the game he had thought only he had been participating in. She was quiet, and her voice wasn't playful, as it would have been under normal circumstances. Sokka looked up for a moment in mild interest at the block of ice that could barely be seen in the distance. "We're nearly there."

The rest of the trip was consumed by a quiet argument between Katara and Toph over wearing shoes at the North Pole. Toph was against the idea, wanting nothing more than to protect her independence. She knew that she would be blind in the moccasins that Katara was thrusting into her arms, and she refused to wear them. But Katara, always the reasonable one, was persistent in her fight and eventually convinced the girl that if she didn't wear shoes, she would get frostbite and her feet would fall off. This was exaggeration, of course, but the girl didn't need to know that. Toph regretfully pulled the moccasins over her feet, making sour faces at Katara as she did so.

-x-x-x-x-

The high outer walls of the Northern Water Tribe loomed over the travelers. The icy walls reached high—far above their vision—and went left and right, far as the eye could see, and it sparkled in the midday sun, creating a dazzling effect, but something about it still seemed sinister. It felt so strange to return here, Sokka thought. He had never planned to come back. His intensions had been to forget about this place, and his time here. For what good did the memories do him? Only the present seemed to matter now.

As they passed through the great canals of the city, Sokka noticed that most of the damages from the fire nation's siege had been repaired, though their effects still lingered on the citizen's faces. They did not smile, or laugh, or point as they once did, but simply stared blankly as Appa went by. Their eyes seemed to be glazed over in remembrance. Sighting the Avatar was almost an omen of death and destruction now.

They reached the healing huts; Sokka scooped Suki into his arms. It was hard to get a good grip of her around the sleeping bag, but he was careful not to let her fall. All of them clambered down Appa's side and walked through the door into the healing hut. Four women stood at the center of the room, gossiping of anything odd or scandalous as old women tend to do, and one of the women looked up as she heard the visitors' footsteps.

"Is there anything I can do for you children?" she asked with a smile. Her face was friendly and welcoming, and her voice was cheerful. But as her eyes traveled from person to person in the group and saw their grim faces, her smile quickly faded

And then her eyes locked onto Sokka, and the human-sized bundle he was holding in his arms. She stepped forward and her eyes widened as they darted to the face that just barely peeked out of the sleeping bag. She looked across Suki's burnt and distorted features, the seriousness of this situation quickly falling upon her. Her eyes glanced up questioningly at Sokka.

"Can you help her?" Sokka asked. The woman didn't answer, but chewed at her lip in thought.

"Take her to the healing table," she told him. Sokka complied, and laid her on the table. The three other healers crowded around the girl, and pulled her out of the sleeping bag to better examine her. The women began to mutter things to each other, contemplating the healing possibilities.

"This is bad," one said, for there were no other words to use. She couldn't even begin to fathom healing possibilities until she had completely taken in the severity of Suki's condition. She ran a hand over the singed fabric of Suki's dress, wondering what kind of injuries could possibly be hiding underneath. "What state is the skin on her body in?" she asked in the direction of the injured warrior's companions while gently peaking through one of the sleeves on Suki's dress.

"What?" Katara asked, confused.

"Beneath her clothes!" the woman clarified. "Are the burns on her body consistent with the burns on her face and arms?"

"I…I didn't think to check," Katara admitted as her own stupidity dawned on her. She had been so consumed with working on the exposed skin; she hadn't thought to check the skin under Suki's dress. That area had seemed cut off from the fire and preserved, in a way, and it wasn't till just now that Katara realized it could have suffered the worst damage of all. One of the healers groaned, then started to pull off Suki's dress to better see the extent of her burns. At this moment, Sokka's presence became painfully obvious.

"No men in the healing hut!" the healer told Sokka loudly.

"But--" Sokka began to protest, but was cut off.

"Get out!" the woman yelled, and Sokka stumbled out of the room. Katara's eyes followed him out the door, but she forced herself to concentrate on Suki.

"Some of her clothes were burned into her skin," one of the healers noticed, then looked at the other healers. "We need water, numbing tree oil, and clean robes." The healers scattered off in different directions in search of these things, and Katara found herself the only one standing over Suki now. The girl's eyes were open, and she quietly looked back up at Katara. Suki's piercing stare was almost frightening, and Katara had to look away.

"I'll be back in a moment," she told the girl, though she wasn't sure if Suki could understand what she was saying, and turned for the door to tend to Sokka.

"Wait!" a voice from behind her called, and a single burned hand caught her wrist. The skin on the hand shifted sickeningly over its bones and muscles as if disconnected, and bits of dead flesh and char flaked off at her touch, causing Katara to shudder squeamishly.

Katara turned to face the girl, who was still staring up into her eyes. Suki tugged at Katara's hand as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. Her face was strained and tortured as she did this, and she found herself letting out a cry of pain, but she didn't give up. Both of her hands gripped Katara's arm tightly for support, and she was breathing heavily from the effort, but she was upright and at eye-level with Katara now.

"What is it?" Katara asked the girl softly, leaning in to hear whatever she might say. Suki was shaking, and she knew she couldn't stay up much longer so she was quick to verbalize her question, catching Katara off guard.

"Am I going to die?" She asked suddenly, her voice almost inaudibly quiet. The question rendered Katara speechless for a moment as the unspeakable horrors of Suki's condition fell down upon her. Katara found sympathetic tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to find her voice. But Suki hadn't asked this in tears, or in any way that pleaded for an optimistic answer. She said it with the bravery of a warrior, as if it had only been asked out of mere curiosity, but Katara could see through this mask. Beneath the image of the warrior hid a young girl—frightened and injured—in need of comfort and hope, in a world where the future was desolate and bleak.

"I—I don't know," Katara stammered back quietly. Suki hadn't asked for her optimism or rationalizations. She merely wanted the truth, and that's what Katara was forced to give her. Suki let go of Katara's arm and let herself sink back down to the healing table. Her gaze became distant and dismissive, so Katara found her self regretfully stumbling back towards the door, which had been her original intent.

-x-

**Part 2: The Delusional Heart**

-x-

Sokka sat just outside the door to the hut, leaning against its wall, and straining in vain to listen to what was going on inside. Katara lifted up the pelt that hung in the doorway and walked through, then sat next to her brother.

"What's going on in there?" Sokka asked, angry that he had to wait for Katara to come out and tell him how Suki was.

"They're numbing her with herbs right now," Katara told him, thinking that this would please him. Sokka had been trying to get her to convince the healers to do this for hours now, but they had always come up with some excuse about why her skin wasn't ready yet. Now that he had gotten his way, Katara was happy to be able to bring him good news.

But instead of a triumphant reply, Sokka was silent. He simply stared out across the canal in front of him, watching the water ripple and shimmer in the late afternoon sun.

"Are you okay?" Katara asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I should be in there with her," Sokka confided in her suddenly. "I can't stand just waiting out here!"

"You know this tribe has customs," Katara groaned, "I would let you in there—you know I would—but it isn't my healing hut, and it isn't my decision to make. There's nothing I can do."

"But what if something happens?" Sokka asked—a thousand things could happen while he was gone, and none of them were pleasant--; "What if…What if she _dies_? I don't want anyone coming out and telling me she's dead. I should be there. I should know what's happening." This was his greatest fear. It was what he thought of every time Katara came out to bring him news. Each time he held his breath, assuming that Suki had died, and Katara had come to tell him; Each time, he was proven wrong, and he audibly sighed in relief, but paranoia ran through him like a virus and his fear always came back to him with Katara's light steps at the healing hut's door.

"There's nothing I can do," she said again, "and I don't think it's doing you any good to sit here waiting."

"Well, what do you expect me to do instead? Frolic in the snow banks and go penguin sledding?" Sokka asked sarcastically.

"No," Katara ventured quietly. "I think that you should go to the spirit oasis." Sokka became rigid at this suggestion. His back stiffened, causing him to sit up straighter, and his eyes grew cold.

"Why would you think that?" he asked, sounding almost defensive now.

"Because," Katara began, taking in long and easy breaths, "I don't think that Suki's the only girl on your mind." Sokka looked away from his sister, and went back to skimming the water in front of him with his eyes. "I just think it would be a good idea if you went and paid your respects to Yue," Katara admitted. Sokka's mood softened at this, but his eyes stayed on the canal.

"She's not dead," he replied, which was something he always seemed to emphasize when the subject of Yue came up between them. She wasn't dead, and she never would be. She had become the moon spirit, leaving him and this world behind, but that didn't mean she had died.

"I know," Katara said, quickly avoiding debate and lecture, "But that doesn't mean you can't pay your respects." He didn't answer, and Katara was beginning to get frustrated. "Please, Sokka," she asked of her brother. "I really think it would be good for you. I know that waiting out here is tearing you apart."

"But what if something happens to Suki while I'm gone?" Sokka asked, for this was his greatest fear.

"I'll come and get you if there are any signs of trouble," she promised him. "Just go," she prompted. Sokka sat for a moment, thinking. He looked over at his sister—the optimist. How he wondered what it was like to be her! How could she believe that this was a promise she could make to him? The spirits were unpredictable and worked in treacherous ways. Even he, who couldn't always bring himself to believe in them, knew this. If they were to decide it was time to end Suki's life, they would do it when it was most inconvenient—they would wait for the moment Sokka had left, just for a few moments, to take her.

But still, there was something about how Katara spoke her promise that made him believe she would keep it. It was an impossible promise to keep. Life and death were so unpredictable…and yet, Sokka trusted her. Sokka found himself standing, looking down at his sister who sat at the edge of the icy canal. Her feet dangled over the edge, just short enough to miss the top of the water.

"I'll be back at sun down," Sokka told her, unable to believe she had convinced him to go. He wasn't sure what it was that she had said that had made him listen to her, but whatever it had been, he found himself walking now, trying his best to remember the way to the Spirit Oasis.

Strangely enough, he found his way with little concentration at all. It's sometimes funny what things the mind chooses to store so clearly, and what it doesn't. Sokka had been hoping for a challenge. He wanted his mind to have to work to find the Oasis, so it he could keep it off of other things, but the spirits didn't seem to smile on this whim, and he soon found his mind swimming through a vast sea of regret, fear, and sorrow.

And as he came to the porthole that led to the spirit oasis, he stopped. He wondered for a moment what he would find inside. Would it have changed since the last time he had entered it? He wasn't sure if he wanted to find out, but curiosity got the better of him. His hands twisted the latch on the door, opening it with ease, and he stepped inside.

It was just as he remembered it, though. Nothing had been changed, or added. He had expected to see something—a totem or a memorial perhaps? —in monument to Yue and her sacrifice, but there was none. Maybe chief Arnook shared the same reasoning as Sokka—you can't give a memorial to someone who isn't dead.

Sokka pulled off his Parka as he walked across the bridge to the center of the Oasis. That was another thing that hadn't changed—the warmth of the spiritual energy all around caught him off-guard as it had before, making him drowsy.

But then, Sokka noticed something, hidden and small, that had escaped his vision before. It was a small cairn, half hidden by long overgrown foliage, made of a stack of white moonstones. A night blooming flower grew beside the stones, and it became obvious that this was a memorial to Yue. It was a reserved and modest one at that, but still beautiful in its own way. Sokka found himself picking up the moonstone that rested at the top of the stack and passing it between his fingers. The stone was smooth and perfect, and it glimmered almost blue in the mid afternoon sun.

Sokka wondered what to do with the stone. Somehow, skipping the rock across the pond came to his mid, but this idea was childish and stupid. The next, more reasonable option was to replace the rock back on the cairn from which it had come, but this idea didn't seem right either. This stone seemed to be destined for greater things than just remembrance. The stone gave off a sense of rebirth and light that the others did not, and Sokka knew that it did not belong at the Oasis on a pile of inferiors that could only hope to imitate its beauty, so he took the stone and slipped it into his pocket. If fate had so much in store for this stone, perhaps it was only right for him to help it along? Still, his eyes shifted left and right, as if checking to make sure no one had seen him take it. No one but him was there, though, so it was impossible for anyone to have witnessed his moment of thievery.

And then he saw the koi fish. Their shimmering bodies caught his eye, and he stared at them blankly now. He hadn't expected to see them. He hadn't forgotten them, of course, he would never forget the koi fish—but it had never dawned on him that they would be there, and seeing them was a nasty surprise. This realization became even worse as Sokka began to understand that these fish were not just a symbol of Yue—one of them _was_ Yue. It was so strange that there she was, swimming before him, yet so very far out of his reach. It was a strange feeling to watch the fish's sleek bodies make graceful, crescent shaped arcs as they swam in circles, creating the tiniest whirlpool between them. It was a feeling he couldn't stand. He wanted—no, needed—to leave the oasis. Memories and images were flooding his mind, as the silver koi fish seemed to burn its form into his retinas.

But instead, Sokka fell back to the grass and closed his eyes, and did his best to escape all the memories he had known he would have to face by coming here, but new memories and fresh thoughts intruded in on these old recollections. Would things end the same way they had the last time he had visited the North Pole—with a lifeless body in his arms?

And, oh, how treacherous fate was; how cruel! How could destiny be so cold as to take the life of the good and pure of heart, while letting the contemptible roam free? Sokka had witnessed it so many times before—his mother, Yue, and now Suki—and never once had it seemed right or just. The purest hearts were broken, while those that broke them were never immolated to the fates.

And it seemed so wrong to have taken Suki here. Just being with her felt like a betrayal of Yue, and taking her to the North Pole seemed like a slap in the face. It was as if he were showing off to Yue that he had moved on and forgotten her, which was entirely the opposite. But he didn't know why he was worrying over this. It wasn't like she could see him, or even know that he was there. Or could she?

As Sokka lost himself in his wonderings, the silver fish in the pond did a peculiar thing. For the first time since the fire nation's siege on the North Pole, it stopped swimming. The fish was completely still, as if dead, looking up at the boy who had intruded upon the Oasis, while the black koi swam in frantic, confused circles around it.

The fish splashed about in distress, becoming loud enough to attract Sokka's attention, and the boy looked over at the pond. He saw the unmoving white fish and his heartbeat raced in fear. Was it dead? He looked down at it from the edge of the pond, wondering how you would check a fish's vital signs. His fingers trembled as his heart urged himself to reach into the water, and his mind told him not to interfere with the spirits.

But it couldn't be dead! His face turned skyward, looking for the moon, hoping for reassurance that the fish—that Yue—was all right, but it was still light out, and the moon would be invisible even if it still hung in the sky. Defeated, Sokka looked back at the fish. His hands shook as he reached them into the pond, and pulled out the silver koi. The fish lay limply in his hands, and Sokka began pleading with it to move, all the while wondering if it was he who had killed it. Had just his presence murdered the fish? He held its lifeless body close to him now, and watched the black fish's frantic circling in search of its partner.

But then a voice, soft and sweet, spoke to him. It was a voice that Sokka knew well and haunted him often.

"Put me down, Sokka," the voice asked of him. The voice did not come from the fish, but from somewhere deeper into the pond, and it made Sokka's body grow rigid and stiff. His fingers tightened around the koi in fear and confusion.

"Put me down," the voice repeated, still kind and gentle, but more urgent now. Sokka didn't look up. He knew whose voice it was that spoke, and it was for that reason he wouldn't acknowledge them.

Slender, tan hands slipped over his, easily loosening his fingers and allowing the fish to slip through, into the pond. The fish hit the water and floated, motionless, at the pond's edge. Sokka stared at it for a moment, then looked up at the owner of the voice that had coaxed him into letting the fish go.

Yue.

She sat close to him, looking down with strange curiosity at the fish. It made sense, of course, that it would stop moving, but she couldn't help but be surprised.

She was as young and beautiful as ever, and her pale lavender robes flowed around her, billowing in a non-existent wind. Sokka looked over her, wondering if what stood before him was real, or simply a hallucination induced by loneliness and fear. If it was the latter, he decided it was best to pay this specter no heed.

But if she were real, he wanted nothing more than to hold her.

"Why are you here, Sokka?" Yue asked. She skimmed her fingers along the surface of the water and watched the ripples follow her, like children to their mother. She thought of all she had lost and all she had gained, and found the scale of it all tipping to the wrong side. But perhaps Sokka, here now, could restore a balance?

Sokka wondered if he should answer her. It would have been wise to stand up and leave the oasis; to not even acknowledge Yue's presence. But loneliness could blind the wisest of men, and Sokka found he was rooted to the ground, watching Yue's fingers float back and forth across the water.

But what would he tell her? He couldn't tell her about Suki, that was for sure. Was it embarrassment that kept him from speaking the truth? Was it shame or sorrow? Perhaps it just wasn't the right time? Or was it fear of admission that he had found new love that kept him tight lipped? Would this information hurt Yue? If it could, Sokka wasn't in the mood to take chances.

"Just visiting," Sokka replied numbly. His voice was clumsy and unfamiliar as the lie rolled off his tongue. But if Yue didn't believe him, she didn't say anything. She simply pulled her hand out of the water and rested it in her lap, looking out over the pond.

"But why are you _here_?" she asked, implying the oasis. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him.

"I'm not sure," Sokka replied truthfully. He stole sidelong glances at her, and wondered what made him stay. Could it have been his loneliness that urged him to stay? If he left, he could only go back to waiting alone in front of the healing hut for news. Did he stay for the memories? Or was it a sick and twisted lust that kept him seated on the grass? He knew not what it was, but he was sure that none of these were the reason, though, in a small way, each played a part.

But whatever the reason was, his head contradicted it. His brain told him to leave, while his heart protested. But Sokka, always being one to follow his head, stood up. Yue looked up at him, confused, but Sokka turned away, and began to walk around the perimeter of the pond, towards the other side of the oasis.

"I'm sorry," he told her as his foot stepped down onto the wooden bridge that crossed over the pond. Yue caught his hand before he took another step.

"Wait," she pleaded, and he turned to face her. "Please stay," her voice was sad and breaking. "I have to go soon, but won't you stay with me until then?" She couldn't let him leave. She was so lonely—more than anyone could ever understand. It was traditional for the spirits to keep to themselves, and though the others were used to and contended with that fact, Yue wasn't. She was young and wild like the moonlight, and though she kept to herself, as was expected, she couldn't help but feel alone.

Again, Sokka's heart took over and he allowed himself to be pulled back in front of the pond. Yue sat down on the grass, and Sokka joined her.

"Where do you have to go?" Sokka asked, and Yue looked at him, confused.

"Huh?" she asked, for his question had just brought her out of deep thoughts, and caught her off-guard.

"You said that you have to leave soon. Where do you have to go?" Sokka asked. Yue smiled at Sokka's ignorance.

"Let's just say I'm busy at night," she said and looked up at the sky, the sun casting an orange-red glow across the snow and ice. Nightfall was coming.

"Oh," Sokka said and laughed a little at his stupidity, and Yue laughed with him.

In an almost involuntary act, Yue's hand reached out and touched Sokka's chest. She blushed as she realized she had done this, and thought to retract it, but as she noticed that Sokka did not recoil, or even move under her touch, she boldly left it were it was, and looked into his eyes.

Sokka found himself glancing down at her hand. Her palm rested just above his heart, and her long, slender fingers just barely brushed the top of his collarbone. She was motionless and stiff, waiting for a sign from him to move away, but he did not give her one. Instead, he leaned forward just the slightest bit. He noticed small things about her now as his back angled ahead in the most miniscule amount, like the faint aura that her body cast off. Her skin illuminated all that was around her, like her hair, which flowed in smoky tendrils around her shoulders, caressing them in a way that made Sokka jealous.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and ran his fingers through the loose curls, letting her hair trickle through his fingers like water. The warmth of the Oasis became suddenly obvious, and Sokka felt himself becoming drowsy again. He pulled away from her hair, but Yue caught his hand. She snaked her fingers up his palm and intertwined them with his. Her eyes brushed across Sokka's face with curiosity. He leaned closer to her, their noses almost touching, but his face was unreadable. She longed to know his thoughts, but he would not reveal them to her.

"It's been so long," she admitted quietly, finding herself glancing away from his eyes. They were so piercing and deep, and she couldn't look into them for long.

"So long," Sokka agreed. He was drawn to her like a moth to moonlight, and her lips were like mist as he kissed them, cool and tender. Yue's hand slipped up Sokka's chest and wrapped around his shoulder, resting at the base of his neck. Tears clouded her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. This was wrong. It was wrong, as it had been when she was engaged. She knew not of Suki, or the true reason of Sokka's return, but she did know that she was a spirit. She had shed her mortal form long ago, and shouldn't have even dared to appear before him. But here she was, kissing him sweetly, their arms a tangled mesh of skin. And she couldn't let go. No matter how wrong it was for her to dwell on the memories and rekindle old flames, she couldn't let go. As she weighed all that she had gained and lost since becoming the moon spirit, it became easy to see that she had lost everything, and gained nothing but an immortal life of servitude and solitude. Now that she had a chance to win back some of what she had lost, even if the chances were as slim as it was, she couldn't let it slip by her.

But Sokka soon broke away from her. His eyes were wide as they skimmed across her face and he crawled backwards, away from her. He seemed to have suddenly remembered something. It was something important, she could tell. Something that contradicted all of the reasons for him to stay seated beside her, and no persuading would ever change his mind now. Yue wondered what it could be, but she did not ask. She watched in a silent sorrow as Sokka stood, his expression frightened and confused. She didn't try to stop him as he stumbled across the bridge and through the door of the oasis, for he was right in leaving. She sat quietly for a moment, feeling an emptiness wash over her, then looked up at the sky. The sun had vanished behind the horizon, and stars dotted the heavens now, twinkling impatiently as they waited for their leader to join them. Yue sat for a moment, reluctant as always to resume her place in the sky. But there was a balance to be upheld—it was her duty.

Yue waded out to the center of the pond. She could feel the spirit of the ocean letting out a great sigh of relief as it recognized her after much worry over where she had gone, and water lapped about her legs jubilantly, though she did not return its joy. Yue was solemn and quiet as she stood in the center of the pond. It was but a moment before the shell of a body she had been wearing fell away from her soul and into the water, and the moon rejoined the stars in the sky.

The silver koi woke from its lifeless state and swam back to its partner, circling the moon's glimmering reflection in the water as if nothing had happened. For perhaps it was best to forget anything ever had?

**

* * *

**

**(A/N: **

**"There she stood in the doorway **

**I heard the mission bell **

**I was thinkin' to myself **

**'This could be heaven or this could be hell'" **

**--from "Hotel California" by the Eagles **

**end of chapter 4. lol….you all are probably all like "wtf! I thought this was a Sokka/Suki story! You tricked me, betch!"….hahah….I guess you'll just have to see how it ends, eh?**

**I'm so so so sorry about how enormous this chapter is(compared to the others at least...it's twice the size). I seriously never meant for my little tangents to get so out of hand as to add 6 pages onto the chapter…It just kept growing and growing like a cheesy monster from a 1950's horror movie! Hopefully, you all don't mind too much?**

**Oh Sokka, you sexy man-whore, and your temporary lapses of judgment. And poor Yue doesn't mean to be a home-wrecker! She doesn't even know about Suki :(….well, till next chapter peoples! Reviews make the world go 'round!**


	5. Whispers of the Warrior

**Warrior's Heart**

**By: Sasha H.**

**Chapter 5: Whispers of the Warrior**

**Dedication: ...No longer for a boy...**

* * *

Sokka lay, basking in the pale moonlight that slipped in around the pelt that hung in the door frame, waiting for morning. He had been awake for hours, it seemed. Even days, maybe. He could remember getting into his sleeping bag when the sun went down, and getting out of it when the sun came up, but he had no recollection of the sleep that surely had come in between. 

A blanket of silence covered him, expunging all sound but that of his companions—Aang's wispy breaths, and Toph's muffled snoring—and he noticed that, once again, Katara's sounds of slumber were not mixed in with the others as they should be. The past three nights they had spent at the North Pole, this had been the case. She had snuck out once she thought they had all long since fallen asleep, and returned far before any of them would ever wake up. She thought herself surreptitious in that way, but Sokka always knew when she had gone, and though he hated to admit, he missed her when she left.

Still, he wondered where she went. Where _was_ there to go at the North Pole? It wasn't as if they had anyone here to visit. Or was there someone that she was visiting that Sokka just didn't know about? Was she sneaking out at night, having some strange and secret love affair? Sokka openly laughed at this. Even if Katara had met some mysterious Water Tribe boy, she would hardly be able to keep her relationship with him a secret. She always seemed to give away her secrets with her constant blushing.

Sokka laughed to himself once more as he tried to picture the expression on Aang's face when the little bald monk found out about 'Katara's secret romance'. Despite how much Aang tried to hide it, Sokka knew that Aang had fallen hard for Katara, and that seemed just as laughable of a concept as Katara's love affair.

But then, Sokka heard the pelt in the doorframe being pushed aside, and sneaky footsteps creep into the hut. Katara was back from wherever she had gone, and she walked as quietly as she could to her sleeping bag. Sokka pretended he was asleep as she walked past him. He wanted to ask her where she had gone, but he knew the answer would probably be something mundane, and he would much rather imagine all the awkward situations Katara could be getting herself into at night—perhaps she was having irresistible midnight cravings for stewed sea-prunes? Or maybe she was going skinny dipping in the canals? These options were far more entertaining than whatever her real purpose for slipping out at night could be, so he kept quiet.

But Katara stopped in front of his sleeping bag, all the same. She seemed to be thinking, deciding something, but after a moment she moved on. He listened as she tugged off her shoes and began to ease herself into her sleeping bag. She stopped after a moment, and pulled her feet back out, thinking. She did this twice more, then opened her mouth three times to speak. Though Sokka could not see Katara—his eyes were closed in an imitation of sleep--, he could hear her lips parting each time, and heard her sharp intake of breath as she prepared to say something. She decided against it each time, though, and stayed quiet.

Sokka relaxed his ears, determining that he would not learn of Katara's midnight whereabouts tonight, and let his head sink into the warm fur lining of his sleeping bag.

"I know you're awake," Katara said. Sokka flipped over, propping himself up on his elbow, and opening his eyes to look at her, but all he saw were shadows. His eyes weren't used to the dark, having been closed for so long in a façade of sleep. Katara's vision, however, was sharp from use.

"What?" he asked, "How could you tell?" Katara smiled and rolled her eyes, a silent laugh turning up the corners of her lips.

"You snore when you sleep," she told him smugly. "Next time you try to fake it, remember that." Katara began to busy herself with gathering up Sokka's clothes, which he had lazily thrown about his sleeping bag, then tossed them all at him in a neat bundle.

"Get dressed," she said imperatively, "and be quick. We don't have much time."

"What are you talking about?" Sokka asked, though he obliged even without this information. He blindly picked his shirt out of the pile and slipped it over his head, then stood up, hopping on one foot to pull his pants on.

Katara shushed him, not wanting to wake the others. Sokka's face soured as he tugged on his boots and pulled his hair into a ponytail.

Katara stood in the doorframe, pulling the edge of the pelt away, and Sokka walked through. He squinted as the bright moonlight spilled over him, shocking his eyes that had just started to adjust to the darkness. He stumbled blindly after Katara as she led him down the icy walkways.

"Where are you taking me?" Sokka asked, stopping and refusing to take another step until she gave him some answers. He could see Katara's form in front of him, swaying as she stepped, then stopping and turning. He could make out the outline of her hands connecting with her hips, and he could only imagine the maternal glare she was giving him.

"Hurry up, Sokka," she ordered him like a dog on a leash. She turned and started walking again, but Sokka did not follow.

"No," he said, "Tell me where we're going." He was so stubborn, and it made Katara laugh.

"If you want to see Suki, you'll shut up and follow me," she told him and walked off ahead, her hips swaying back and forth with hidden sass. Sokka would follow her now. These words were like a leash, and she could pull Sokka anywhere she wanted with them.

Sokka sped up, walking shoulder to shoulder with his sister now. How well trained he is, Katara thought, a laugh filling her throat, though she forbade it from becoming audible.

"We're going to see Suki?" Sokka asked, "The healers are letting us in?". The healers always worked on Suki during the day, and let her get her rest at night. There never seemed to be any time in-between to allow Sokka in. Could it be they had changed their minds?

"Not exactly," Katara told him, her voice was sly—playful—and she grabbed his sleeve, pulling him behind her, making him walk faster. "That's why this needs to be a quick visit, alright? In-and-out. We've got to be out of there before any of the healers come." Sokka smiled in appreciation of his sister.

"You're insane," he said. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Katara smiled too, letting the moon lead her way to the healing huts. As they came into sight, Katara stopped and turned to her brother.

"We need to be quiet," she told him. "There's an old woman who always sits out in front of the huts, watching over the patients. Normally, she's asleep and we can sneak past her, but if she's not, we have to turn back, understand?" Sokka nodded, though he had absolutely no intentions of heading back now

"How do you know about all this, Katara?" Sokka asked his sister. She made it sound as if she had done this a thousand times—like she knew all the ins and outs of sneaking through the Northern Water Tribe.

"Where else do you think I've been going off to at night?" she asked, her grin mischievous and quick. She felt bad, in a way, that all this time she had been sneaking in to see Suki every night, while she had not until now brought along her brother, who needed to see Suki much more than she did. As she thought this, her smile quickly faded and she remembered a final warning for her brother. "Sokka?" she turned to face him. She was solemn now.

"What is it?" he asked, anxious to get to the healing huts. Katara glanced off to the right for a moment, then back up at her brother.

"Just brace yourself, alright?" she warned. Her voice was soft and gentle now, almost pleading. Sokka nodded, and Katara looked away, pulling him along behind her and staring at the ice beneath her feet.

The two crept past the old woman at the entrance with ease. She was sleeping soundly, just as Katara predicted. Once inside the healing hut, Katara held out a hand to Sokka, motioning for him to stay put as she went ahead.

So Sokka stayed behind, watching as Katara walked over to Suki, who lay on her side on the healing table. It was dark in the hut, aside from moon that spilt in through the doorframe, casting heavy shadows across all that was in the room, which was largely empty, aside from the healing table in the center and few jars of ointments along the wall.

Katara kneeled beside the table, her face joining with Suki's in the shadows.

"Are you awake?" Katara asked of the girl in a whisper, though she already knew the answer. A heartbeat of silence passed.

"Yes," Suki replied, not bothering to open her eyes. Katara's entire point in coming always seemed to be to persuade her to sleep. Opening her eyes now would only slow the process.

"I brought him," Katara said quietly, and Suki's eyes flickered to life. She was no longer interested in trying to sleep, but instead pushed herself up with her arms in order to see if what Katara said was true. She smiled as she saw that it was, but her arms shook terribly under her weight and they soon collapsed, leaving her to fall back to the healing table with a sickening _thud_ and a groan.

After asking Suki if she was alright, and receiving flustered, but assuring words, Katara motioned to Sokka and he stepped forward, doing as Katara did and kneeling at the edge of the table. Suki smiled as his gaze met hers.

But Sokka was solemn. He looked across Suki, now, who only had clean linens to cover her, seeing what she had become. He could tell she was lying on her good side. Her right side, the one she let her weight fall upon, had survived with the least amount of burns. Beneath red, sometimes blistering skin, he could still make out her features—her cheeks, her nose, her smile.

But her left side seemed to have been destroyed. In places where there should have been skin, only glossy expanses of nothingness were left, showing where it had been rubbed raw and clean of char. Suki followed his gaze, saddened. She wished he would focus on her, and not her injuries.

Sokka's eyes snapped back to hers guiltily.

"Hey Suki," he said after a long moment. His voice was soft, almost shy.

"Hey Sokka," she said, almost mocking Sokka's timid expression. It was almost funny to see Sokka, usually so self assured and charming, as nervous as he seemed now.

"How are you doing?" he asked, blurting it out in lack of things to say. The words came out like vomit, and as soon as the sound reached his ears, he wished he could take them back. He couldn't believe something so idiotic could ever come out of his mouth.

But Suki merely laughed. It wasn't a whole-hearted laugh--Just a small chuckle. She enjoyed seeing Sokka stumble over his words.

"Better," she told him, though she wasn't necessarily sure if this was true. She was kept just as aware of her condition as Sokka was. So perhaps she was more alert, more aware of her surroundings, stronger, but this could be simply because of the sleep she had gotten, and the numbing oils the healers had rubbed on her skin made it harder to gauge her state by pain.

"That's good," Sokka replied, not knowing how else to respond. Suki noticed how he kept to his own respective area, just as she kept to hers, and she wondered why he chose to distance himself. Did she look frightening? She knew her injuries were bad—she could see her arms and hands, and she guessed that the same burns covered her face and the rest of her body. She had never thought of Sokka as a squeamish person, but perhaps he was?

"You're afraid to touch me," Suki speculated. Her head was cocked slightly to the side, but the corners of her lips tilted neither up nor down.

"No, I—" Sokka began, flustered at what Suki had said, but she cut him off, taking his hand in hers, red and burned. She ran her thumb across his palm, and her bright eyes became distant for a moment. Sokka's brow furrowed as he wondered what Suki could be thinking as her fingers absent mindedly explored the bones and muscles of his hand.

Then Suki woke from the trance she seemed to have spun for herself.

"Come here," she whispered, pulling his hand toward her and resting it on her cheek. She waited silently for his response.

But Sokka was not afraid. He did not cringe as he felt the absence of skin beneath his fingers, or retract his hand in panic. He merely watched her with a strange look of curiosity, and she wondered what it meant.

He kissed her softly. Just a peck.

But it was enough.

"What are you thinking?" Suki asked, noticing Sokka's gaze become distant—lost in the moonlight spilling in through the door. He pulled back his hand and his fingertips grazed her sensitive cheek. She flinched. Sokka's eyes glanced back to Suki, tracing over her form. He could feel the moonstone in his pocket weighing him down—pulling at him, though in which direction, he did not know.

He didn't answer her, but instead backed away. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. He felt lost.

Sokka stumbled out the door, and, after an apologetic glance towards Suki, Katara chased after him.

Katara forgot about being surreptitious. She did not tread lightly in the pursuit of her brother, though her moccasins easily absorbed all the sound, she ran after him. Once at his side she swung her fist out, striking his arm as hard as she could.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked him, perhaps louder than she should have. Sokka cringed, rubbing his arm where he was certain a bruise would form soon. But he didn't reply to her. He just kept walking.

"How could you turn your back on her like that?" she questioned him, disgusted. "You probably just broke her heart! She needs you, and you just walked away!"

"Leave me alone, Katara," was all Sokka said. He stared at the ground as he walked. Not at the moon, hanging, apathetic, above him. Not back at the healing huts, where Suki waited. Not at his sister who seemed, at the moment, to despise him.

"No!" Katara yelled, "Not until you tell me why you just walked out like that!"

Sokka said nothing.

"Do you know what I risked, taking you there tonight?" Katara continued. "If they had caught us, do you realize how much trouble we could have gotten in? They could have turned Suki away! They could have refused to treat her." But Katara knew the healers wouldn't have done this. Though the women were strict, they would never have the heart to turn away a patient. It was Sokka who would have gotten the real punishment, but she had no idea what they would have done to him. "and you just blew it off! You've wanted to see Suki for days, and I take you there, and you just walk off? What were you thinking? It's like I went through all that trouble for nothing!"

Sokka turned on his sister, his expression littered with frustration and infuriation.

"Do you want to know why?" Sokka yelled, advancing on Katara. "Do you want to know why I ran off like that? I can't handle the guilt anymore! It's driving me crazy!"

"What, do you think this is your fault?" Katara asked. She knew Sokka felt guilty about Yue's passing, but to feel guilty over what had happened to Suki would be ridiculous.

"No, I--" Sokka started, then his voice lowered, and he sank to the ground, leaning against a wall of ice, "It's not that." Katara towered over her brother now as she stood, taking a position of power in the argument. All the same, her voice softened in the slightest.

"Then what is it?" she prompted. Sokka looked out over the canal. The moon reflected brightly in the water.

"Going to the Oasis the other day…I just--" Sokka looked for a way to twist his words, and say them without being straightforward. Perhaps he could say something metaphoric that was truth, but not in a way that Katara would understand. But his un-poetic mind could think of nothing. "I saw Yue."

Katara cocked her head in curiosity. She sunk down beside her brother now, and followed his gaze out across the water.

"You mean the koi fish? Sokka, I'm sorry about that. I know that must have been hard for you to see, and I shouldn't have made you go," Katara sympathized. The koi fish were something Katara hadn't thought of when she had sent her brother to pay his respects. She realized now what a truly morbid thing it was for her to make him face them, and she regretted it. Her eyes pleaded for her brother's forgiveness, but he did not see them.

"Not the koi fish," was all he said, looking into her eyes now, and for a moment—just a subconscious second in time—Katara could see what her brother had seen at the oasis. She suddenly understood exactly what he meant.

"Sokka…" she said softly. Her eyes were glassy and her heart ached for him, "I know it's hard, what you're going through right now, but you've got to keep yourself together."

Sokka felt as if she had slapped him in the face.

"You don't believe me?" he asked. He felt betrayed.

"You're under a lot of stress right now. It's not uncommon to get a little delusional. Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?" Katara asked him. It had to have been a dream, she thought. Her brother wasn't crazy. She didn't want to believe that he could be hallucinating.

"It wasn't a dream!" he said, desperate for her to believe him, but now he wasn't so sure if what had happened really was fact or fiction.

"Be reasonable, Sokka!" Katara said, her voice rising with his. "Yue is the moon spirit! That's never going to change! She's not coming back!"

"But she did!" Sokka argued, his voice on the rise once more. "She was there at the Oasis! I saw her! Katara, you've got to believe me!"

But Katara simply shook her head.

"You're just going to keep feeding this dream—this delusion--aren't you? You're just going to keep going back to the Oasis, 'visiting' her, and letting this get way out of hand." she said. She wasn't yelling now. Her look of pity was turning into one of disgust, and her voice sank to a low hiss. "How could you?" she asked now. "How could you do this to Suki? She's _dying_, Sokka. She doesn't have much time, and you're wasting what little of it she has left on your delusions of Yue? How dare you do that to her!

"And let me guess, you're going to tell me that it's my fault, aren't you? That I told you to go to the Oasis, so I'm to blame, huh? Well, I certainly regret that now, but that doesn't excuse you for what you're doing. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Sokka felt suddenly small beneath his sister's deep glare.

Katara stopped for a moment. She calmed herself, and her expression changed. Sokka wasn't arguing with her anymore. All the fight seemed to have been knocked out of him, and he bent his head low. He was so lost, and Katara pitied him. She thought to put an arm around his shoulder, but she knew she needed to stay firm with him.

Perhaps Katara was right, Sokka thought. Had everything just been a dream? Now that Sokka thought of it, it seemed to make sense. In a way, he even reveled in the idea. If it had all just been a dream, did he really have to feel conflicted over it all? He could just forget about Yue. Maybe, for once, he could finally move on?

The two were silent for a long stretch of time.

"Suki won't eat," Katara said suddenly. Admittedly, this was something she should have told Sokka as soon as the problem arose, but now seemed like the time for confessions. She was quiet for a moment, her eyes glancing at the ground. "We don't know why, but she just won't. Some of the other healers think that she might have inhaled some of the flames, and burned her throat."

Sokka lifted his head to look at his sister. Why did all these things just seem to keep on piling up on top of each other? Why did the spirits seem to despise him so much? For a moment, he wondered if it was Yue, sending all these misfortunes his way, but he quickly expelled this idea.

"Is that what you think?" Sokka asked her. Katara shook her head and her eyes darted across the water. She watched as the moon rippled and swirled on its surface.

"No," she spoke cautiously. "I think she's giving up."

* * *

**(A/N: **

"**All day  
Staring at the ceiling  
Making friends with shadows on my wall  
All night  
Hearing voices telling me  
That I should get some sleep  
Because tomorrow might be good for something  
Hold on  
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a  
Breakdown  
I don't know why  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
I know, right now you can't tell  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
A different side of me****"**

**--"Unwell" by matchbox 20**

**thanks so much for all your support of this story! After only four chapters, you've already made it the most popular story I've ever written!**


	6. The Lifespan of Ice Moths

**Warrior's Heart**

**Chapter 6: The lifespan of Ice Moths**

**By Sasha H.**

**Dedication: to Kimba616, because she's cool like that, and just had a Birthday.

* * *

**

Suki's breaths spilled from between her lips, rising into the air like smoke. She watched them in mild fascination through the pale beams of moonlight that fluttered in around the pelt doorway, gracing occasional patches of ground and skin with light. Ice moths danced in its frigid luminescence, and threw flittering shadows over Suki's face and hair. It was cold, this she knew. Freezing air bit at her nose until she could no longer feel it, and her cheeks flushed red—a subconscious effort of her body to keep itself warm. Suki pulled yards of blankets, soft and heavy, over her head, and beneath the sheets of wool and furs she could feel the heat that emanated off of her skin, filling the space between blanket and table. Her face tingled with sudden warmth, and a happy sigh escaped her lips.

Suki curled herself in a tight ball, like a dog would at the foot of a bed, hugging her legs with her arms. It was strange, for she found comfort in this. _It should be warm now_, she thought. It was summer—the time for the shedding of heavy coats and bathing in the late afternoon sun. Yet here it still seemed like treacherous winter, frigid and angry, surrounding her with nothing but cold winds and snow. She couldn't see how anyone could live in a place like this. It felt so empty.

But in a way, she could see the beauty of it all. Through the window during the daytime she could see how the sun glistened on the buildings of ice, sending a spectrum of colors off its diamond-like surface; at night, she could see how the reflection of the moon played upon the water—it seemed so much brighter there. Yet still, she couldn't stand the place. Maybe she just had a bias against it? Perhaps, if she had come on a happier note she would have loved it there. The streets of water and buildings of ice would have entranced her, and she would have gladly braved the cold, dawning heavy parkas with cozy fur lining and the otherwise warm, but formal wear of the North Pole.

However, Suki had not come to the North on pleasant circumstances. She had come to await her death, which now seemed eminent, and it was hard now to find joy in small things like scenery or foreign customs. It was so easy to see that, stepping back, these things were trivial and insignificant. Why spend what little time she still possessed fondling over it?

Besides, she found herself distracted by other things—things she had lost; things she missed dearly

Her longing for her homeland crippled her. Never before had she been home sick, in fact she had inwardly scoffed at the other warriors as they spoke of how they missed the homes they had left behind when they went away to protect Ba Sing Se's borders. Suki hadn't missed Kyoshi in the way the others had. She didn't need it a silly island to supply her with a feeling of security and comfort. The other warriors were her security, her home, her family. She had no one but them, nor did she need anyone but them. If they were beside her, she was home, and during their long stay just outside the walls of Ba Sing Se, she never once harbored the need to feel Kyoshi's shores beneath her toes.

But now they were gone; her security, her home, her family. She had been told the other warriors—the girls she had grown to call her sisters—were dead. It was something she longed to be untrue, but reluctantly believed regardless. Murder wasn't anything she would put past Azula.

Her heart ached for her sisters more than she could ever understand. She felt responsible for their passing. She was their leader, after all. She should have been more alert. She should have heard their attackers coming. She should have prepared them all—but she hadn't. She had failed. And they all had paid dearly for it.

She only took remote comfort in the idea that they would be reunited soon enough.

But for now, all she seemed to have left was that pathetic strip of land they had all resided upon together. Fond thoughts of it shriveled and died, yet she still found herself longing to see it one last time, and she feared its soft sands would never grace her feet again. She wished she could tell Sokka to take her back to it—to forget about the healers and their cures, for they could do nothing for her now, and just take her back to Kyoshi. That was where she belonged. Not here on this icy tundra But he would never even hear of it, being as stubborn as he was. She didn't waste her breath with the request.

Looking back, It was almost funny how she and the other warriors had made so many plans together on that island—silly promises that were meant to bond them for an eternity. As children they had giggled and pledged to never move away from Kyoshi. They would all stay on the island together for the rest of their lives. They would build their homes side by side. Their children would grow up together, just as they had.

What lies all those promises had become! Why had they been so certain that these things would happen? It seemed so strange now as Suki thought back on it. She had believed then that a long life had been promised to her at birth. Then again, why would she, as a child, ever have reason to think she would never even see the age of sixteen?

She would never be married, or have children of her own, or have her own little house, side-by-side with the other warrior's. The way it looked now, she would never even get to see how the war ended.

But her silent soliloquy was interrupted by the sudden feeling that she was being watched, as if by the spirits. She could feel them glaring down at her as she repined her fate, reminding her not to be spiteful of their decisions. After all, their choices were always reasoned and just. If they chose to take her from this world and bring her with them to the realm of the dead, she should accept it. She should remember her teachings from childhood—the spirits were nothing to be trifled with; never contradict them.

But these were such morbid and tiresome thoughts. Her heart ached enough without the spirits hovering over her to constantly remind it of all that she would miss. She decided to push all these from her mind, and just sleep, for that was all she truly desired now.

Suki closed her eyes, and for the first time in days, began to drift off into sleep. It was a pleasant slumber—calm and dreamless—far better than the nightmares that had haunted her on nights before, but it was short-lived. A sharp noise soon woke her, and her body stiffened. Her ears were alert for signs of movement.

Footsteps.

Suki lifted her head silently from below her blankets. At first she thought that perhaps she had slept longer than she originally believed. Perhaps it was morning? It could easily be the footsteps of a healer. But as she looked out of her cocoon of wool and furs she found herself waking to the blackness of midnight and the absence of light left her blind. She held her breath and listened to the footsteps, remembering the game she used to play in the fire nation prison—where she'd try to decipher a guard's intentions for walking towards her cell just by listening the way their feet hit the ground.

These steps were slow and deliberately soft, but they scraped across the ground, feeling for their surroundings. She could tell they were attempting stealth, but failing miserably at it.

It was a type of footstep she had heard many times before. Always at night. Always in pitch dark. The footsteps of the guards had been like this. The guards of the prison had been largely untrained and while they wore uniforms and knew the basics of military—the names for stances, and the levels of officers—they were fools who knew nothing of the true ways of the warrior. None were crafty or cunning. None knew of stealth or vigilance. Their footsteps at night had been all she needed to know this. In the prison, they had come for her often, lusty and iniquitous thoughts in their minds, but their lack of this knowledge had always saved her. She heard them coming. She defended herself.

Their footsteps and the ones she heard now seemed to be one in the same. Had they come for her? She wondered. Had they traveled as far as the North Pole just to retrieve her? Stepping back, these thoughts would be irrational, but grief, hunger, and exhaustion blinded Suki.

She wouldn't go back. She couldn't. She'd rather die than return to the days of beatings and starvation. Images of that time still stung fresh in her mind. She thought of the days she had eaten handfuls of mud, just to fill her empty stomach. She remembered the nights of hallucinations—specters that spoke to her, begging her to succumb to them; seducing her with their kind offers of freedom, but always turning on her before the night was through. Suki shuddered at the thought of it all.

Her heart sped faster than she had ever felt it before. She could hardly breathe from fear, but still, there was a terrifying thrill to it all, for she always had the upper hand on these men. Along with their lack on knowledge, they also made one grave mistake. They had always underestimated her. Perhaps they thought now she was just a wounded little girl, unable to protect herself?

Perhaps she had one last fight left in her.

Suki slipped her hand silently over the edge of the healing table she lay on. She knew there was a small, raised surface near it, on which the healer's left their tools. And some of them were sharp. Suki reached out her hand as far as it would go, letting her fingertips glide over each of the implements, relying on touch to tell her which each one was, and which would make the best weapon. In the end, she chose something remotely resembling a scalpel, made of wale tooth and bone, and held it close to her, propping herself up on her elbow waiting to strike as a predator awaits its prey.

_Just a step closer_, she dared the guard. She waited for one more footstep. That was all she would need to know he was a decent in range of her.

When the step came, she struck, fast as lightning in a storm, straightening out her body and pulling out her arm, swinging it at the intruder. She felt the scalpel cut through their heavy jacket and into their skin, but the force she had used, thrusting her weapon at them caused her to slip off the table and hit the ground hard, the fall painfully slapping her burns. She wanted to scream out in the pain of it—to cry and cradle her wounds—but this could assure a grave ending to this battle. It would surely give away her position, so she did her best to hold back the pained shrieks building up behind her lips, although her breaths betrayed her, became loud and gasping.

She could hear the intruder stumbling back in pain and surprise. She hadn't cut very deeply into them. She had been ignorant in not expecting their heavy coat and had incorrectly estimated the force it would take to cause any real damage. After the initial shock of it all, they would come at her again. She quickly recalculated, measuring the strength it would take to rip through the jacket and a decent amount of skin. She prepared for a second strike.

But as the intruder advanced, they spoke.

"Suki," the voice pleaded. "Please, Suki, it's me." The voice was male--surprised and pained and so familiar. She could feel its owner near her now, his warm breaths brushing at her cheeks, and she dropped her weapon. He stretched his fingers out blindly in the darkness, and she felt them brush over her face, running them down her neck, to her shoulders. He asked her if she was alright--If she was hurt. He begged for her to speak to him. She could feel his hands shaking, but she merely continued to lay motionless on the ground, unresponsive to him. It was Sokka who called her name now, frantic for her response. It was Sokka that she had so blindly mistaken as a guard and attacked. She wondered how she could have possibly sunken so low as to hurt him as she had.

And, instead of replying to his pleas, she began to cry, breaking a final promise to herself. Her tears were loud and pained and her body shook so terribly that could hardly breathe through the choking sobs that filled her throat. She could feel the boy pulling her into his arms, cradling her, and she was too weak to push him away. She sobbed in disgust for herself and hatred of all that haunted her. The boy asked her something, but she couldn't understand it, her mind was so unclear.

"I thought--" she heard herself choke out between sops. Her throat closed as she cried, making it nearly impossible to speak. She crumpled in the boy's arms, loosing all strength to move. "—I thought you were a guard." She told him, her voice tight and high. It sounded so ridiculous and foolish now. She had let her imagination get the better of her. Paranoia gripped at her heart and stole her mind from all truths and reality.

"And I…I--" She stopped again, unable to breath or speak. "I hurt you," she confessed. She lifted up a shaky hand, searching for the rip in fabric and flesh she had made. When she found it, she traced her fingers numbly over the cut. It was deeper than she had thought, and she felt his blood on her fingers, coating her hand, warm and tenacious.

But Sokka didn't heed his own wounds. The cut was insignificant. He couldn't even feel it. His mind was concerned for other things.

"Suki, are you're hurt?" he asked, searching through his mind, trying to think of what to do. She leaned her head into his chest, shaking her head, 'no'.

"I'm fine," she told him through her pathetic weeping. Her fall had done nothing but agitate old wounds. Pain blinded her, seeping into her head and tearing at her skin, but it didn't truly matter. She was no worse off than she already was. "I'm so sorry."

"I was so scared," she cried out in sudden burst of admission. Her voice was muddled and detached and Sokka could hardly understand what she was saying; only catching the last sounds of each word, though it was just enough for him to decipher what she meant. He held her close to him, resting his cheek in the curve between her neck and shoulder.

"You're safe," he assured her. She continued to cry, but her tears were softer now—subdued like a sea storm beginning to wane—though they were ever present, staining his shirt with the salty drops. "I'm here," he spoke softly in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear. "You're safe."

His fingers met her hair in the darkness, and he ran them through the loose strands. She rested her head on his chest, and she did her best to calm herself. She felt empty and detached, as if her spine was all that connected the two halves of her whole being.

"I've gone crazy," she confessed to him, shaking her head in sorrow. "I'm losing my mind." Her fingers trembled in her lap. This wasn't the first time she had thought a guard was coming for her. It wasn't even close. So many times, every night, she was greeted by hallucinations. Sometimes they came to her in the form of her sisters. Sometimes they were the guards. They often talked to her, speaking of cruel things, taunting her with grief. Perhaps Sokka was a hallucination too? Was he a delusion just like all the rest? She cried out once more, and tried to pull away from him, for even the kind hallucinations consumed her by the end of the night. They tortured her to no end. She had to escape.

But Sokka held tightly to her, partly out of fear and surprise, and partly out of his selfish necessity to hold her.

"Get away from me!" Suki said as forcefully as she could through her gasping breaths. She pushed herself away from him, her hands on his chest. Her strength had dwindled to almost nothing, and Sokka easily kept her from getting away. He spoke her name over and over again, trying to make her listen to him. She only shook her head and beat him away from her with as much strength as she could muster, which wasn't much at all. Sokka grabbed her wrists to prevent her from hitting him, and she tugged at her arms, failing miserably in a pathetic attempt to break free.

Suki felt herself grow dizzy and her pleas for freedom became half-hearted and far apart. Sokka spoke calming, assuring words, but she would not hear them. She willed herself not to listen to what this delusion might have to say. She closed her mind to it. She resisted.

But as his fingertips stroked her skin, she felt herself shivering with euphoria. Again, she buried her face in his chest. There was no escape from him—he had already proven that. And maybe even if this was all just a hallucination, this one would be different. Perhaps it wouldn't turn on her as all the others did. So why bother to fight it? After all, it would be gone by morning like all the rest, wouldn't it? She lay as a crumbled heap of skin and fabric in his arms, and he held her like a sleeping child.

An ice moth fluttered before her, catching her eye, only visible by the moonlight that reflected off its wings. It was beautiful and graceful, dancing in the cold night air. She looked away.

"I'm scared," she told Sokka once more, her voice quiet and shaking.

"Of what?" he asked her after a long moment, but she wasn't sure of the answer herself. She could feel the fear the grip at her heart, but she couldn't understand what it was that made her feel this way. Perhaps it was Sokka's arms around her that made her forget? She didn't feel quite so afraid with him there.

She had tried to be so brave through it all. Until now, she had not once cried in grief or fear. She had accepted, and even welcomed death. She had even stopped eating to hurry it along. Then why did she feel so frightened? Why did nervous butterflies fill her stomach, making her want to vomit?

Perhaps she wasn't as brave as she pretended to be?

"I don't know," she told him, but this wasn't true. She could see the answer now, shining out as boldly through the blackness as the ice moths did. She was afraid of death. She was afraid of the broken promises. She was afraid of the past, and what lay ahead for her, or the lack there of. She felt herself breaking down to her simplest elements. All the pieces that, together, made her who she was were now splitting apart. Some were being lost forever.

It was something she could never explain to him.

"Come on, Suki," Sokka quieted her, his voice light. She could tell, even in the darkness, he was trying to smile for her, but she knew he was failing at it. "You're the bravest warrior I know. I--"

"_I'm not a warrior_," Suki interrupted him. Her voice was as cold and hard as ice, and her eyes were blank as she spoke through the black midnight. This was perhaps the thought that angered her most about her condition. All that she had stood for, all that she had represented, had been lost to her. "_You_ are a warrior. Not me. Not anymore."

"Of course, you're a warrior," Sokka began, but she only shook her head.

"Even if do I live through thi--"

"Don't talk like that. You _will_ live." Sokka interrupted firmly, saying this more for his sake than hers. Suki put a finger to his lips. Why was he so pig-headed? Why couldn't he speak to her truthfully, without optimism or silly, irrational promises?

"Even if I do live through this, I'll never fight again. I'll never even walk again. And these--" she took his hand and placed it on her cheek, letting him feel her burns—the ruined and distorted skin that was the same across her body—, "these will _never_ heal." This was what she had been told. She had asked and gotten honest answers from the healers. If they were bold enough to tell her of her of the severity of her condition, she would believe their words as truths.

Sokka was silent for a moment, thinking through what she had said, and then he took her hands, warm but stiff, in his own. He thought of something his father had taught him when he was very young, not long after his mother had died; something he had nearly forgotten.

"Let me show you something," he said, turning her to face him and letter her back rest against the healing table. Sokka took her hand placed it on her chest, just above her heart.

"What do you feel?" he asked her. Suki felt her heartbeat beneath her fingers. It fluttered, strained and afraid, like a sparrow. Her chest rose up and down rhythmically beneath hers and Sokka's hands.

"My heart," she told him. She didn't want to feel the beats anymore. They were so small and insignificant and broken. '_The heart of a prisoner,' _She thought._ 'A child. Nothing at all_.'

Sokka took Suki's hand from her chest and rested it on his own. The heat of her fingers soaked through his shirt, filling his chest with sultry warmth. He tried to ignore how nice it felt, and focus instead on the lesson he was trying to teach.

"Now what do you feel?" he asked her. Suki felt his heart, strong and assured, like a hawk. They were so different. He soared over her. She was left behind.

"Your heart," she said. '_The heart of a warrior. A man. Everything at once_.'

Sokka left her hand on his heart, and placed her other hand on her own chest. Their breaths rose and fell together in harmony, and the longer Suki held her hands over the two hearts, the harder it became to distinguish the beats. She could feel the fear in his heart, hiding behind the hawk's sturdy beats; and the drum beat of the warrior, steady and strong, hid in her own heart as well. She looked for differences now. She strained to hear the superiority in his heartbeat, and her hand fell heavy on her own chest, desperately searching for the weakness she had once felt, but these things were no longer present. Their hearts beat exactly the same.

There was a balance—a unity—to it all.

"Maybe," Sokka began, realizing something even he had never truly grasped before, "being a warrior isn't about fighting?"

"Maybe it isn't about strength, or force, or smarts." He thought aloud. "Maybe it's about heart?"

Suki cocked her head at this. Heart? It was a word that cut sharper than the blade of any fan or sword—heavier in weight than gold.

But it took no other words for her to understand what he meant—what he was so desperate to prove to her. While he was still able bodied and strong, and she was growing ever weak from injury and grief, he still was no more of a warrior than she.

Whether she ever fought again, or even if she lived to see another battle, this fact would not change. She would forever be a warrior. It was in her blood.

It was in her heart.

But what did this boy know of her heart? It had become so trodden by the heavy steps of the spirits, and she had been broken long before her body had been covered in these insidious burns. If it wasn't for the quick, frightened beats that she felt under her palm she would have sincerely believed she no longer even possessed a heart. Her cold eyes of blue fell across the healing hut. The night sky was lightening ever so slightly, hinting of the sunrise that was still hours away.

But the boy turned her from these wanderings. While she taunted herself with lies just as her imaginings and hallucinations did, he only spoke of truths. He once again pulled her close to him, and now she did not resist. She did not struggle out of his grip or throw weak punches at his chest. She succumbed to him, letting her soul sink into his arms.

Suki closed her eyes to all that was around her and her cheeks cradled her eyelashes, damp and stuck together with old tears.

"You should get some sleep," Sokka told her. She shook her head. She didn't want to sleep. If she could, she would stay up forever with him. The night would never end.

"Come on," he said, "Put your arms around my neck. I'll help you up." Reluctantly, she did as she was told, and he wrapped an arm across her back to lift her. It was then that he felt how truly frail she had become. Her skin stretched tight across bones, creating deep hollows between her ribs and painfully elongating her torso.

_Why?_ He asked himself wordlessly, thinking of what Katara had said to him the night before. He longed to ask Suki for the truth, but he felt something held him back. His eyes met hers in the miniscule moonlight that slipped in through the windows, but Suki quickly glanced away. His eyes were judgmental and sympathetic, as his sister's were, and she didn't like to look for long. She knew what he was thinking. She could tell in the way his fingers ran down her side, subconsciously counting ribs as his thumb crossed over them.

He didn't understand. He never would. And in that was the reason she had told no one of her reasoning for not eating. Let the healers blame her injuries. She'd rather them think that than know the truth.

It was a sacrifice she had to make. Her time was limited, this she knew, but the others still clung to ideas of recovery. They were optimistic fools, wasting their time at her bedside, waiting for something to happen—for something to change. Yet still, outside of the walls of the North Pole, a war waged on. Every day, people were dying in battle, but their last hope still drew near—the eclipse. Who was she to keep the Avatar from training; to keep him from his destiny of defeating the Fire Lord on that glorious day?

But Aang was far too sentimental. He would not even take his own destiny into account now, and she knew that they would not leave until she had either recovered enough to travel, or died. Recovery could take months—years maybe—but death could come much quicker. At her state, she could reach it in maybe as little as a week.

Through the eyes of a warrior, it was an easy decision to make. She couldn't allow more bloodshed on her account. An entire war could not cease, hinging on her well-being. Her death could lead to victory, while her lingering, clinging to life, only wasted valuable time. In that point of view, it was easy to see that a quick death would be most beneficial to the world. And to ensure it, she refused to eat. If her injuries didn't kill her, starvation would. It was a fate she could control.

And even still, a little voice in her head cried out to her, '_If you were brave, you would end it now. A week is still far too long to let them linger here. You have a scalpel at your fingertips. Death could come so easily—with a belly wound, it could be within the hour. Why won't you be a warrior and end it now?_'

But through the eyes of a girl, not even sixteen, she was terrified. While she accepted this fate that the spirits had bestowed on her, and she did what was in her power to ensure it, her heart cowered in fear of what was to come. She was but a child, forced to make the hardest decision of a lifetime, but pretend the choice was easy. It was something she was sure the spirits expected of her; something she would have to face with the grace of someone far beyond her years. Yet, these thoughts brought her no poise or strength. Only tears.

Again, Suki's eyes met Sokka's in the darkness. Hers were glazed over, ashamed at how maudlin she had become that night; ashamed of secrets and fear. Sokka's eyes mirrored hers. The blue of his irises, light as the sky and deep as the endless sea, entranced her. He drew her to him with only his eyes.

Eyes closed. Inhibitions were released.

Lips met in darkness.

She kissed him like she had on Serpent's Pass--a kiss of goodbye. Why were there only parting kisses, sweet and sorrowful, for her? Why did their lips never meet in times of simple happiness? Why must there always be such a feeling of heartache deep within the ecstasy of it all?

Suki pulled him close to her, arms still around his neck, wishing he would never leave her side. Couldn't he feel the urgency in her lips? The desperation?

But in his, she could feel the tiniest resistance. She felt his guilt, but for what he felt such remorse, she did not know. And, for the moment, she couldn't bring herself to care.

She wished it could go on forever. She wished he would never leave.

But all things must come to an end.

Sokka lifted her back to the healing table, telling her she should rest. 'How could she ever hope to get better without a good night's sleep?'

She didn't want sleep; she didn't need it, but he insisted. He pulled her covers of fur and wool over her, spreading waves of empty warmth over her body.

With a kiss on her forehead, he began to walk away, but turned back once more before leaving the healing hut. He saw Suki holding tight to her pillow with clinging and possessive arms. She seemed to almost be pleading with it for protection. She closed her eyes in an effort to sleep, but her brow furrowed in unspoken concerns. He smiled a little to himself and walked back to the table where she lay, climbing onto it himself. He lay next to her and guided her arms from around her pillow to around his neck, gently pulling her towards him. Her pillow couldn't protect her. No matter how terribly she looked to it to provide her with safety, this would never change. But perhaps he could?

She smiled, her eyes closed, and rested her cheek on his chest. The smell of fresh rain and grass emanated from his shirt, bringing with it kind memories of her homeland. She saw herself running through childhood on grassy hilltops, her sisters by her side. The sweet sunsets of summer washed over them, as they lay on their backs together, watching the endless sky and molding the clouds into the shapes of animals and flowers.

Memories lulled her to sleep, and for once—one sliver of night—she found comfort. She found peace.

-x-x-x-x-

Katara opened her eyes and stretched her arms, freeing her back of the exhaustion that made it tight and sore. She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to have to open her eyes and face the day as fatigued as she was, but, being the one in charge of waking up the rest, she had no choice but to lift her head and greet the day.

And to her surprise, there was no sunrise for her to greet. As she looked out the door, she realized that no sunlight crept into the room, but instead bright moonlight took its place. She watched as ice moths danced in the window, letting the moon play upon their opalescent wings, almost hypnotizing her. In the pit of her stomach, she had a growing feeling that she had forgotten something. But what? What could she have forgotten while she slept? It frustrated her to no end, picking at her brain as these things often do, until she finally remembered in a sudden rush of thought.

Suki.

She felt terrible. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for the others to drift off that night, and hadn't woken up until now, which, by the smell of the air and the way the moon shone in contrast with the sky, seemed to be only an hour or two before sunrise. After the way Sokka had run off the night before, she should have gone tonight especially to apologize for him, but she had forgotten.

Maybe it wasn't too late? After all, there was still an hour or more before the healers would come to work on Suki that morning. Even if she couldn't stay long, at least Suki wouldn't think she had been completely forgotten about.

Katara dragged herself out of her sleeping bag and pulled her parka over her head, yawning in the effort of it all. She then grabbed a small jug and, after filling it with cold water from the canal, she balanced it on her hip and began her journey towards the healing hut.

As she walked, she noticed for the first time how quiet the North Pole was at night. It was almost eerie how noiseless it was. Only the water that formed the streets made a sound, lapping at the edges of the walkways and penetrating the silence.

A turtle seal suddenly began to bark loudly in the distance, making Katara jump and almost drop the jug under her arm. She let out a gasping breath, placing a hand on her racing heart, then continued on her walk towards the healing hut after recovering from the scare.

Katara stepped lightly—down the walkways, through the great city, and past the old sleeping woman in front of the healing hut.

But as she entered the large, almost barren room, the moonlight that spilled in behind her played unevenly across Suki's body, and Katara was struck with the sudden feeling that something wasn't right. She narrowed her eyes and crept softly towards Suki, moonlight revealing more and more of her with each step she took.

But it wasn't until she was right over Suki that the moonlight allowed Katara to recognize a second sleeping figure on the healing table—her brother. A warm appreciation came with her recognition of him, and she smiled. All the contempt she had felt for her brother for what he had done the night before was gone. It appeared to her that he had apologized, or redeemed himself in some way, and by the content look that ran across Suki's sleeping features, she had forgiven him.

But as quickly as her smile of self-satisfaction came, it disintegrated into one of remorse, for she would have to wake him up. Sunrise was drawing near and the healers would be showing up to work on Suki soon. If they caught him in there, she could hardly imagine the consequences.

"Sokka," she whispered her brothers name and shook his shoulder, doing her best not to wake Suki in the process. In four days she had not been able to persuade Suki to sleep, and if Sokka could do it in one night, she was not about to take his work for granted.

Sokka cringed and muttered some profanity under his breath. He opened one eye and looked up at his sister, his face contorting into an expression of exasperation.

"Come on, Sokka," she spoke softly and her voice was tinted with regret. "We probably ought to leave." Sokka looked up at his sister, then down at Suki. He let a sigh slip out from between his lips, nodded, and maneuvering skillfully out from under Suki's sleeping form. While she did not wake, he could see the corners of her mouth turn downwards in the slightest subconscious frown.

Katara walked ahead, leading the way out of the healing hut, but Sokka stayed behind for a moment. His eyes skimmed across Suki's face as he lost himself in his wonderings, and then he turned to her, pulling the blankets of wool and fur up to her chin, tucking her in as a father would do for a slumbering child.

-x-x-x-x-

Suki woke up alone.

She couldn't say she expected otherwise. That was always how the delusions ended. But, for some strange reason, she had believed that this morning it would be different. It had all felt so real and now she could hardly bring herself to believe it had merely been a dream, just like all the other nights.

For how could a dream heal a heart as broken as hers? How could a simple dream fill that cold, empty rock deep within her chest with the warm, kind feelings that she felt now?

Her eyes flitted across the healing hut, looking for some oblique affirmation that he had really been there the night before. She started at the door, glancing at the ground just under the threshold, then let her eyes travel back to the healing table, tracing Sokka's path with her eyes. As she began to give up on this search, something white won her attention.

Upon closer inspection she could see it was an ice moth lying dead on the ground. Its wings were splayed out in awkward angles and the rising sun cast bright oranges and pinks across its iridescent form. It was heartbreaking to see it there now, motionless on the floor, while it had been so graceful and light merely hours before.

Ice moths had notoriously short life spans.

She looked away.

From the doorway, Suki could hear a loud yawn, and her eyes followed the sound, glad to have something else to look at. The old woman who always sat guard in the doorway at night was standing up, stretching her arms, and making loud 'awakening' noises, as she got ready to leave her post and go home. Suki watched her as she stretched out her old joints, muttering things to herself about how lovely a day it was going to be.

She was a funny old woman, short and squat with a very square face and a bottle-shaped body. She fidgeted wither her long, grey hair, which she always wore in a braid that ran all the way down her back, swinging in all directions as she tried to catch it, just as a slow, old cat would try to catch a string.

Suki could tell that in youth she had been beautiful, just by the way her eyes shone when she smiled.

Suki had grown fond of the woman over the past few days. On past nights, after Katara had gone and Suki had woken up from nightmares or old, unpleasant memories, the old woman had always sat at her bedside, offering comforting and wise words, calming Suki's nerves, and bringing numbing oil for her burns on occasion.

The old woman turned now, catching Suki watching her, and she smiled. Suki smiled back, and the woman began to walk over to the healing table where Suki lay, though her age kept her from traveling any faster than a slow waddle.

"Good morning, Dear," the old woman said as she reached the table.

"Good morning, Ahnah," Suki replied, her smile still spread across her lips. It felt strange to call her elders by their first names—she was so used to calling them 'ma'am' or 'sir', but upon their first meeting, this woman had insisted she simply called her 'Ahnah'.

"That's such a lovely smile," Ahnah, noted, "you should wear it more often." Suki nodded, accepting her wisdom.

"I must say, though," Ahnah began, a knowing look twinkling in her eyes "You are looking quite well this morning. Is there anything in particular that could be attributing to this? It would certainly be a good idea to take note of it." Then she laughed, "Is it because I didn't bother you with any silly anecdotes of my youth last night, as I always do?"

Suki laughed a little with her, shaking her head. "No," she replied, "I just…" she trailed off, getting lost in thought. "I just had a nice dream, is all..."

* * *

**(A/N: **

"**_The path that I'm walking  
I must go alone  
I must take baby steps 'till I'm full grown  
Fairytales don't always have a happy ending, do they?  
And I foresee the dark ahead…_ **

_Yes, you can hold my hand if you want to  
Cause I want to hold yours too  
And we'll be playmates and lovers and share our secret worlds  
But it's time for me to go home  
It's getting late, dark outside  
I need to be with myself and center, clarity,  
peace, serenity_

_And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket  
But I've got to get a move on with my life.  
It's time to be a big girl now  
And big girls don't cry."_

from"**Big Girls Don't Cry" by Stacy Ferguson**

**How did this chapter get so long? Ugh. I'm sorry. It wasn't even decent. **

**(in case it might interest you, 'Ahnah' is a traditional Inuit name meaning "Wise Woman")**

**Anyways, I hope you all had happy holidays?)**


	7. Two Kinds of Blind

**Warrior's Heart  
Chapter 7: Two Kinds of Blind/ Art Museum  
By Sasha H.**

**Dedication: this will be my last dedication because I've just seen how ridiculous it is to do that—so, to my dog. I'm a weeper.**

**Part 1: Two Kinds of Blind**

Toph had been wrong about Ba Sing Se. It wasn't the worst city ever—it wasn't even close.

The Northern Water Tribe was.

She couldn't have even imagined Hell to be this horrible. At least Hell wasn't made of ice. At least she could see where she was walking (figuratively, of course) in Hell, and the weather there would surely be balmy and beautiful in comparison to the snow and cold here.

How did people live here on this icy wasteland? How could they survive their _entire lives _in this cold? She felt lucky that she had even survived here for five days, let alone a hundred-or-so years.

Or did people even live to that age here? She couldn't tell. She couldn't even determine where the sidewalk ended here on this spirit-forsaken block of ice, let alone decipher anyone's age. For once, her Earthbending wouldn't help her. For once, she was truly blind.

She had finally become the pathetic cripple that the spirits had always intended her to be, and it was all the fault of this stupid city.

For all she could tell, her surroundings were just vast expanses of nothingness as far as her imagination could reach—at least until she stumbled over the edge of a walkway and into the freezing canal below or accidentally kicked her foot into a wall of ice, upon which she became very aware of what surrounded her. She was suddenly just as helpless, if not more than her parents had always assumed, and for the past few days Aang had been chauffeuring her around the city—she was sure they were quite the sight: a bald monk, still half-crippled after being struck by lighting, and a poor little blind girl who stumbled with every few steps she took walking about the city together.

But today, she didn't even have the luxury of being led around a city she couldn't see—Aang had gone off to talk with the chief about the war, leaving her out in front of the healing hut with Sokka.

Oh, joy.

It wasn't that she didn't like Sokka—quite the contrary, actually—it was just that he didn't seem the same now. He kept to himself and skipped out on meals; things that his big-mouthed and even bigger-stomached self would never do on normal circumstances. He didn't talk to her much, or to anyone else for that matter. He just sat and sulked. It wasn't like him; he wasn't any fun anymore.

She let out a loud sigh, blowing her bangs momentarily away from her face, and letting them flop back in front of her unseeing eyes.

It was going to be a long day.

Truthfully, she wasn't sure if he was even sitting there with her anymore. She couldn't feel his heart beating through the vibrations in the ground, like she could have on a normal landscape, and for all she knew, he could have gotten up and walked off hours ago. He was so quiet she would never have even known the difference. But if he was still there, she had to say something. She had to break that silence that stood like a thick wall of ice between them or she'd go crazy. It had to be something casual—definitely not one of those sickening optimistic speeches that Katara always seemed to give. She eventually settled on yelling out loudly, "How can you stand this place?"

Sokka's head nodded backwards in mild surprise at her outburst, and he grunted—her first sign in hours that he was still alive.

"What'a'ya mean?" he asked, his voice rising in pitch as he spoke through a tired yawn.

"The snow! The cold! How can you live here?" she yelled, her arms rising up in the air as she emphasized their surroundings.

"Well how do you handle it down in the Earth Kingdom when it snows there in winter?" Sokka asked her, hoping to point out the stupidity in her question. But, as always, he was the stupid one.

"I've never _had_ to handle it before," Toph told him. There was a strange mixture of resentment and happiness in this statement that Sokka couldn't quite place. His brow furrowed.

"Wait," his voice slowed in realization, "do you mean you've never seen snow before? Doesn't it ever snow in the Earth kingdom?"

"Well, if you want to get technical I've never _seen_ rock before either," Toph shot back, her voice becoming childish and bratty as it often did when Sokka said something idiotic like this, then quickly shifting back into a more neutral tone; "It snows in some places, but not in Gaoling," she told him, calling her town by name.

"Everyone says the snow is so great, but I don't get what's so wonderful about it," she continued, "It's just cold and wet and miserable."

"Maybe it's just something you have to get used to?" Sokka wondered, "I mean, I've lived in the Southern Water Tribe my entire life. I was raised on snow. It doesn't bother me." Toph half-expected Sokka to go into a long-winded explanation of how beautiful the snow was and how '_the sun glistens off its iridescent surface, perforated only by the silent footsteps of winter travelers'_ as every one else did, and was pleasantly surprised when he didn't. She thought she would vomit if she had to hear something like that again.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," she said, bitterness burning her tongue as she spoke. Sokka laughed a little at this. He remembered thinking the same thing when he saw a tree for the first time, just half a year ago.

"Maybe this will help?" Sokka suggested, slipping something into Toph's hands. She could tell it was a cup by the shape, and most likely made of china judging by its smooth texture. She decided it was probably imported from the Earth Kingdom, because if it had been made here it would most likely have been crafted out of something weird and disgusting like the hoof of a buffalo deer.

The cup was hot, and she had to wiggle her fingers loosely over it to keep from burning them. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled its fragrance, expecting it to be some sort of bitter tea, but was surprised to find that it smelled sweet and sugary—she had never smelled anything like it before.

"What is it?" she asked; "If it's not cactus juice, I don't think it's going to help."

Sokka merely laughed and pushed the cup closer to her.

"It's even better. Just try it." He urged her, though he felt a little put-out that he wouldn't get to finish it himself.

Toph let out a resigned sigh and led the cup to her mouth. She tilted her head back and foolishly let the hot liquid spill through her parted lips. It was hotter than she could have imagined, burning the roof of her mouth and the top of her tongue. She swallowed it as quickly as she could, desperate to rid herself of the hot drink, but the burning sensation only worsened as it slid its way down her throat, through her chest, and to her stomach. After it had finished its course, she let out a loud, shrieking gasp. She cringed and panted, doing anything she could for some bit of relief.

"Did I forget to mention that it's hot?" Sokka asked, laughing at her expense. Toph stuck her tongue out, waggling it around in the cold air, hoping it would cool the angry burning.

"Yeah, you did!" she shrieked, throwing out her fist to hit him but missing him by nearly a foot.

She pushed the cup back in Sokka's general direction, but he wouldn't take it.

"Try it again. You didn't even taste it that time," he persisted.

"That stuff nearly killed me! Why would I want to try it again?" Toph asked, still sticking her tongue out in a desperate plea for relief.

"Just try it. Little sips this time, stupid."

"_You're_ stupid," was the best retort Toph could come up with while she tried to soothe her burning mouth, but eventually gave in with a muttering of "fine". She blew on the hot liquid, making the steam dance wildly over the cup. It warmed her cold cheeks and nose, just one of its many healing effects.

"Blowing on it's not going to make a difference" Sokka pointed out, "It stays hot, no matter what you do to it. That's what makes it so special."

"How does it do that?" Toph asked. She stopped blowing on the cup, though she wasn't entirely sure she believed that it wouldn't make a difference.

"I dunno. Some spirit mumbo-jumbo. Just drink it, already!" Sokka said, tapping at the cup in her fingers.

Once more, Toph brought the cup to her lips, almost too nervous to take another sip. After a few calls of "Possum-chicken!" from Sokka, she cautiously sipped at the liquid inside the cup, doing her best to focus on the flavor rather than the temperature.

It was delicious beyond words. Its sugary sweetness filled her insides with a kind warmth that tea could never bring. It relaxed her muscles and mind, making her almost sleepy. Suddenly, she didn't mind being in this icy Hell. The drink made the feeling of the cold almost pleasant as it contrasted with her warm interior.

She could feel tiny beads of sweat bubbling beneath her skin, but they never broke the surface. All that delicious warmth stayed tucked away inside.

"So what'a'ya think of it?" Sokka asked, flicking the cup she still held in her hands with his index finger. Toph shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide how much she adored it.

"It's alright I guess," she said with her nose stuck in the air, pulling the cup away from its resting place at her lips which it had so enjoyed.

"Well, I guess I can have the rest then, can't I?" Sokka smirked, lifting the cup out of her hands.

"Hey!" Toph yelled and leapt to gab the cup back from him, but blindly hitting it with the back of her hand in the process. Its contents went flying, splashing out all over both hers and Sokka's fingers. They simultaneously hissed in pain, pressing their burned fingers to their lips as if it would heal them. The empty cup was quickly forgotten in the snow.

"See what you made me do?" Toph accused.

"What _I_ made you do?" Sokka shot back, feeling as a child did as it cried from the pavement with a skinned knee—a puerile and laughable feeling. He buried his hands in the snow and winced at the sudden contrast from hot to cold.

"What'd you do, Sokka?" Sokka heard his sister's voice behind him, stepping out of the healing hut. Sokka turned to face her, and before he even got a chance to speak, she was already down on her knees, examining both of their hands. Their fingers were red and sore, but no real damage had been done.

"I didn't do anything!" Sokka yelled out to Katara she began to heal Toph's fingers. The little earthbender smiled at the instant relief. "It's all her fault!" he pointed a sore finger in Toph's direction, though there was a laugh bubbling down deep in his chest. He didn't mean a word of it.

Katara turned her glare towards Toph, who couldn't tell the difference either way.

"Why can't you two just get along?" Katara asked in mock-exasperation. She could tell this was all just a game, and truthfully she was just glad to see Sokka smiling, even if he _was_ trying to hide it.

She grabbed his hands and, before he could protest, healed them with a quick flash of blue.

"Be just a little more careful, alright? I don't need another couple of burn patients," the words had slipped out like butter through all the repressed giggling, and she immediately knew it had been the wrong thing to say. The mood changed and the inward smiles vanished. Katara looked around frantically for something else to say that would leave her previous comment behind, and it was then she noticed a distinct rip in the sleeve of Sokka's parka. She gladly took the opportunity to change the subject. "What happened to your arm, Sokka?"

The boy followed Katara's gaze down to the tear in the fabric as she pulled it wide to examine the skin underneath where an open gash etched its way across Sokka's flesh. Sokka felt a nervous blush creep to his ears as he remembered what had happened the night before.

"I don't remember," Sokka replied. He wasn't entirely sure why he was lying to her. He knew it was partly because they were within ear-shot of the other healers and he couldn't let them know he had been sneaking into the healing hut at night, but also he couldn't bring himself to tell her about what had truly happened the night before—the case of mistaken identity. It seemed like something that was meant to be kept a secret.

"Looks pretty painful to 'not remember'" Katara noted, "It's ripped right through your parka and everything."

"Hey, boys will be boys," he said, giving her a sheepish grin and using the only excuse he could think of. Katara's suspicious eyes met his as she healed his wound, leaving only a thin, spider-web scar behind.

A battle scar.

"Thanks," Sokka said, though not feeling entirely thankful. Katara nodded, then looked back at the healing hut.

"You two play nice, okay?" she asked of them in the most mock-maternal voice she could muster. Sokka rolled his eyes, and Katara walked back into the healing hut.

"What was that about?" Toph asked once Katara was gone. She had heard the commentary but couldn't see the subject and it left her confused.

"Beats me," Sokka said, hoping to shrug off the topic. Toph's reply came in the form of an uninterested hum, and she wished she could still be sipping at her cup. It gave her something to do with her hands, rather than letting them rest limp and cold in the snow.

"Hey Sokka?" her voice took on a soft tone that was normally lost to it.

"Hmm?" Sokka asked, turning away from the canal to look at her. He realized for the first time that it was strange he still extended the courtesy of looking at her while she spoke, being that she couldn't tell the difference.

"Why don't you like it here?" Toph asked him.

"What makes you think I don't like it here?" he questioned in return, neither confirming nor denying her suspicions. Toph shook her head.

"You can just tell," she told him. Before they had left their camp they had made at the edge of the river, Katara had announced to Toph and Aang that they were heading for the Northern Water Tribe. She could remember feeling Sokka's heartbeat through the ground. It was some kind of nervous hatred that she couldn't truly place—something she had never felt before. "I don't get it," she continued, "Isn't this place just like home for you? Why would you hate it so much?"

"I don't hate this place." Sokka told her, and it was truth. "I guess I just don't like how things ended the last time I was here,"

"Well, what happened?" Toph asked. She hadn't heard much about their last trip to the North pole, let alone what Sokka might have busied himself with while he was there. Sokka shook his head.

"It's a long story. I don't want to get into it"

Toph was persistent: "Do you really think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon? Looks like I'm stuck here with you for a while. The least you could do is entertain me."

If he were going to tell anyone the full story of what he had gone through on his last visit to the North Pole, Toph certainly wouldn't have been his first choice. But, when he thought back on it, he wasn't sure who he _would_ be. Not Katara--She always got too sappy about these kinds of things, and it'd just be too weird to tell his sister—and definitely not Aang. He still seemed too young to truly understand it.

And he couldn't tell Suki. Sure, he guessed he would have to tell her eventually, but for now he'd rather keep his escapades up at the North Pole a secret to her. He couldn't see how telling her now would help anything—Especially after seeing Yue not so long ago.

Sokka quickly cringed and shook his head at that thought. No. He hadn't seen Yue. Katara was right. He had imagined it. That was definitely the best way to look at it, and he almost even believed it himself.

"Well..." Toph prodded.

"Well…" Sokka echoed, looking for an excuse—an escape.

It soon came in the form of Aang, in all his bald-headed glory.

"Hey, Aang's back!" Sokka said, watching as the boy made his way towards them, using his staff to support himself. He looked from Aang to Toph. Now that Aang was back, Sokka no longer harbored any moral obligations to sit with Toph and 'entertain her' with unpleasant anecdotes. His legs were cramping from sitting for so long, anyway.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," Sokka told her, standing up and stretching his arms. He wasn't ready to tell his story. Not yet.

-x-x-x-x-

**Part 2: Art Museum**

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka wondered where these walkways might take him. The paths twisted and turned ahead of him, and he was blind to all of their endings. He could almost feel guilty for not knowing the streets as he used to; the last time he had visited here, he had known the place like the back of his hand by the time he left, but now he had no idea where he was going or how long it would take to get there. Not that the destination mattered much anyway; all that reaching a destination would mean was that it would be time to turn around and head back toward the healing huts, which he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to do.

His steps were light at first as he walked through the city, observing things of little significance. Sokka craned his neck skyward as he walked, squinting his eyes and staring at the endless blue above him. He was an odd sight, strolling down a walkway and gawking dumbly up at the sky, but Sokka didn't notice how strange this behavior might seem to the casual passer by. He was too engulfed by his thoughts.

He couldn't have asked for a nicer day.

The sky stretched out above him, wrapping around the earth like soft blue linen. Its strong hue faded gradually as it neared the horizon, becoming a limpid, clear white as it touched the Earth and causing the thin line between snow and sky to become indistinguishable. It made the heavens above him seem almost endless. He found his scientific mind wondering what made the sky do this, though decided it was a problem to solve on another day.

But as his eyes traveled from the sky to the ground below, his steps became heavier; weighted. There wasn't a corner or crevice in this city that hadn't been explored by him and Yue, and every bridge and walkway brought with it a specific memory—a joke, a smile, a laugh. It clouded his mind with a subtle, nagging guilt. He could easily push it away, but the thoughts were always reoccurring.

He could almost feel the moonstone in his pocket now, shuttering at every familiar sight. Sokka tried to ignore it at first, but eventually found himself reaching his hand into his pocket and running his fingers over the smooth stone, considering it. After a long moment of silent thought, he pulled it out to look at it. The sun reflected brilliantly off its smooth surface and it cast tiny spectrums of color across his face. He had to admit it was quite pretty.

He sat down, resting his back against the icy wall of a building, and shifted the stone's angle in comparison with the sun, admiring the different shades and tints of blue that it became as he turned it this-way-and-that. It almost reminded him of the charm that Yue had worn dangling from that ribbon around her neck—that meretricious and loathsome piece of jewelry.

He thought about her far too often.

It was wrong, he knew, to think about her as much as he did. After all, she was gone—dead, at least in the mortal sense—and mooning over her was pointless. It wouldn't change anything. No matter how terribly he missed her, or how he longed once again for those days of complex-simplicity, she wouldn't be coming back. Thinking of her only made him heartsick

But still, she wouldn't leave his head.

She was the kind of girl it was impossible to get off his mind—her eyes, her smile, her voice. It all stuck in his mind like a flag stuck in the earth; waving around wildly with occasional winds and drawing his attention. There had just been some kind of _softness _about her. All the other girls he had ever known weren't like that at all—they were all so strong and sure—but Yue had always seemed so fragile. It had felt nice to be her protector and to feel like he was needed, even if he had failed her in the end.

But those days were as dead and gone as she was, and it was time to move on. It was time to forget.

Sokka pulled a knife out of his pocket and begin to scratch it across the surface of the moonstone in his hand, slowly carving away bits and pieces of it with flicks of the blade. He wasn't sure of whether he was destroying or creating something, though he trusted that the purpose of his actions would reveal itself to him in time. He just continued to chip away tiny pieces of rock, working his way towards making it a flat surface.

After nearly an hour of work, the stone didn't truly look any different than it had when he began. It was a little rounder, perhaps, a little flatter, but other than that its appearance remained the same. Sokka decided to give up on it for the day.

Before putting the stone back in his pocket, he examined it one last time. Though his work had been next to futile, the stone seemed entirely different now. He realized that it didn't stand as a memorial to Yue anymore—it was something tainted and changed, no longer paying homage to anything, let alone a lost lover. It was blank and corrupted, and guilt washed over Sokka, making his throat become tight and his cheeks burn red as he realized that it had never been his to destroy. He had completely defiled and disrespected Yue's memorial—something her father had must have spent many sleepless nights to build; finding all those moonstones in the snow was no easy feat.

Sokka couldn't even imagine going through the pain the chief must have experienced—losing his wife so many years ago, and now his daughter. He had been left with no one, and surely felt a grief that Sokka would never even comprehend. By taking the stone, Sokka practically mocked all the effort the chief had put into building this memorial for his lost daughter.

Sokka had never felt so selfish.

He decided the only way to put things right, even in the slightest, was to put the stone back. It wouldn't be the same, being that he had twisted and changed it with his hideously mortal hands, but returning it would at the very least satisfy Yue's father, who probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference between how the stone had looked originally, and how it looked now.

He didn't particularly want to go back to the Spirit Oasis—taunting himself with ghosts of the past certainly wasn't his idea of fun—but he knew it was the only way he could relieve some of the guilt that weighed him down. Besides, what was there to worry about? Katara was right. Yue wouldn't be there when he returned. He had just imagined her the last time. At least this way he could finally prove that little fact to himself.

Sokka stood up and slipped the moonstone back into his pocket, setting out on his journey towards the Spirit Oasis.

-x-x-x-x-

The oasis was like a world of its own, tranquil and warm, starkly contrasting the world of war and grief that surrounded it. It truly was a sanctuary—perhaps the last of its kind—a place free of any outside grievances, and the only true survivor of one hundred years of war. Sokka wondered if it was only this way because the spirits kept such a vigilant eye over it, but if that were the case, it made the spirits appear dreadfully selfish; they looked over their precious oasis, but not their people? Surely they wouldn't have let this war wage on for one hundred years if they could have ended it.

Or maybe the spirits didn't work that way? Sokka really had no idea what the spirits could or couldn't do. He didn't think anyone truly did.

He should have put back the stone as soon as he got there. It would have been wise to do what he had come to do and leave as quickly as could be managed, but Sokka wasn't always necessarily a wise boy. Instead, he sat on the grass, staring at the stone, again considering skipping it across the pond. But Sokka was horrible at skipping rocks—growing up in a place devoid of lakes and stones, he hadn't even known that such a thing could be done until he reached the Earth Kingdom—and would have probably ended up hitting and killing one of the spirit fish it he tried. Sokka didn't attempt it. He kept the stone firmly in his hands and watched the fish swim in a tight circle. Their obsidian eyes seemed to stare back at him on occasion, and he felt a hot blush creep into his ears. He had been caught.

How could he put the stone back now if he knew the spirits were watching him? Unsure of what else to do, he remained planted in the grass like a tall, awkward weed, waiting for circumstances to change—for the tables to turn in his favor—though the only event a weed such as he could ever hope for would be the day it is abruptly pulled from the garden; a very nasty surprise indeed.

He leaned over the side of the pond, looking down at the fish in curiosity. Their never-ending circle had slowed somehow—the silver fish swam at a crawl, and its partner urged it on while retaining the same pace. Sokka thought himself to be crazy, analyzing the movements of fish that probably meant nothing. How had he become so paranoid?

But the longer Sokka tried to tell himself that he was imagining the fluctuation in fish's speed, the more conspicuous it became, until the silver fish stopped its course entirely. It merely tread water, staring up at him with its marble eyes. Sokka grimaced and pulled away from the pond, yet the fish's eyes followed him. He could feel his heart in his throat as he looked this way and that, trying to rid himself of the koi's gaze, but it never averted its eyes. It was terrifying to be watched like that.

When its eyes glazed over, and it rolled into a belly-up position, Sokka became frantic. It wasn't the fish's death that upset him now--it was something he could almost expect--his only thoughts were _not again._ Sokka cringed and looked around for some sort of sign to tell him that this wasn't happening. It couldn't! Katara had been right, after all, he had just imagined this all happening the last time—and even if Katara was wrong about that, she was right on another point—just being there at the oasis was betraying Suki when she needed him most.

A wise man would have left then and there; he wouldn't have stuck around for what he knew was to come. Sokka had never been a necessarily wise man.

And also, he remembered his mission. He would return the stone, and then leave. Nothing more. It was a good plan. He remained planted to the ground.

He watched in silence as the pond began to glow at its center, humming with spiritual energy. It rippled, spinning out spirals of water across its looking glass surface and distorting the images of the two fish within the pond. But even through the shaky ripples, Sokka could see the ebony fish had become as frantic as he was. It swam in quick circles around the center of the pond without the aid of its partner, faster than he could have even believed possible. The water within its circle rose, twisting and shaping itself into indefinable forms.. It took Sokka a long moment to see what was being created—a torso, a neck, a head, wading waist-deep in the water. As it grew and changed, it gained opacity, transforming liquid into solid until it girl stood alone at the center of the pond. Water ran off her dark skin and trickled from her cascade of silver hair, sending ripples through the pond as it fell. She almost looked dull in comparison of her magnificent entrance.

Yue stared at Sokka through crestfallen eyes. Sokka rubbed his in disbelief.

"You came back," Yue spoke softly, her words drifting through the air as light and cold as snow. If he had expected a warm reception, it was not what he received. Her eyes danced about the oasis in an attempt to avoid his wide-eyed stare. "I thought you were my father through the water." It was an excuse for even appearing in front of him; a clear statement to express to him that, had she known better, she would have ignored him entirely.

Why had he returned? To taunt her, perhaps? It was something he had done quite frequently in life, always hanging around her no matter how persistently she reminded him that it was wrong, and only making their final good-byes so much harder. Why had she believed that now would be any different? Why had she felt so certain that she had seen the last of him? She was constantly surprised by her own naivety and her ability to fall for the same old tricks so many times. Now, for the first time, she had begun to realize just what he was doing. It was hard to hide the resentful sting in her voice.

Sokka's only reply was to nod. He had immediately adverted his eyes back to the ground as soon as she began to speak, not knowing what to make of her, fantasy or fact. Yue eventually felt forced to do the same. She wanted to tell him to leave—to walk out of the oasis and never return. If he had any decency, and if he cared for her at all, that's what he would do—but she couldn't bear to send him away. She wanted him beside her as much as she wanted him gone.

The spirit of the ocean still lapped at her waist as she stood in the center of the pond, begging her to return to the water where she belonged, but she ignored it, foolishly stepping from the safety of the pond onto the grassy ledge above. She waited for Sokka to speak, but not a word slipped out between his normally talkative lips. He left behind a long strain of silence that became her duty to fill.

"I'm sorry," Yue began, her eyes skimming over the grass, "about the other night." She searched for an excuse for her behavior, though none immediately came to mind. She had been out of line, kissing him, and it had only left her broken hearted in the end. "I--I forgot my place." He was as much to blame as she was, of course, but she allowed the blame to lay on her shoulders—after all, she was supposedly a wise and honorable spirit—surely she couldn't expect a mere mortal to be responsible for their combined actions?

"Me too," he replied quietly, loosing all articulateness to nervous guilt.

Yue nodded in return. Rather than stepping towards him, she followed around the perimeter of the oasis, forming a crescent shape around him with her steps. He followed her with his eyes, admiring her like a painting in a museum. She was slender and tall for a girl, but she carried herself with poise rather than the awkwardness that this combination would normally ensure. While small aspects about her had inexplicably changed during her transition from mortal to spirit, this, he knew, was a trait she had developed in life. He had never seen her without that air of grace and elegance that had been beaten into her as a child.

She caught him watching her and looked away. A hot blush rolled across her cheeks. She had never felt so angry with herself—she just kept falling—but was forced to keep a pleasant tone as she spoke with him. She had always been taught to be polite.

"Are you alright?" She asked him, only speaking for the sake of reliving that dreaded silence. She knew she couldn't rely on Sokka to carry on a conversation without prodding, let alone start one himself. "You look tired." She knew this without even having to face him.

"I'm fine," he shook his head, admonishing her assumption with his words, but confirming it with his heavy eyelids. His voice was flustered and confused—it would almost be considered amusing from an outsider's view. Yue merely shrugged at his reply, passing her fingers across a night-blooming flower her father had planted in memorial of her. The bud unfolded at her touch, revealing a center of light blue. Yue pulled her hand away and the flower followed her, stretching out at its stem until it could no longer reach her, upon which it curled itself back into a tight bud.

Next to it sat the small cairn of moonstones, and she found herself smiling as she admired it with a knowing eye. Sixteen stones had been left in a stack for her; sixteen stones for sixteen years. She envied that life now, though while she had been resentful as she lived through it. But as she admired each of those years with a wistful smile, it became strikingly obvious that there was something missing. The stone that had sat at the top of that cairn for months now was gone. She found herself feeling frantic, searching. She couldn't guess why a simple rock could mean so much to her, but she felt her breaths become quick and panicked. As her eyes swept across the oasis in distress, she caught Sokka's wide-eyed stare. Her heart filled with relief as she let out a hidden sigh. She could see where the stone was now—Sokka's expression made it very clear.

She summoned it in a breath, and then turned to Sokka with a curt smile, her mind spinning with cleverly devised trickery.

"A stone is missing," she noted, carefully draping her eyes over the cairn. Her face became plagued with fake concern, though she laughed inwardly as she heard the boy shift uncomfortably where he sat. Yue looked back at Sokka, flashing him a soft, knowing smile, and he stiffened. She could see him wracking his mind for any kind of excuse or lie for what she knew as truth, but couldn't think of any under the pressure and time constraints.

"I was just about to give it back," he blurted out. "I swear." He immediately began to rummage through his pockets, searching for the stone to present it to her, but much to his horror, it wasn't there. He looked back up at Yue with a sheepish grin and a shrug, then immediately tried to think of a way that he could make it up to her.

Yue merely smiled and held out her hand. The moonstone sat in her palm, shimmering in the late afternoon sun and almost seeming to laugh at him. The look on the boy's face was worth all the silver and gold in the world.

Sokka looked in wonderment at the stone, then quickly began to sift through his pockets for a hole large enough for it to have escaped through.

"How'd you—how'd you do that?" was the only contribution his voice could make as it became steadily clearer that he had no holes in his pockets and that this was indeed the stone he had taken.

Over the past few months she had begun to notice little quirks about herself—special abilities and newfound traits. She was a spirit, after all. It was natural to be able to manipulate the natural world, and other supernatural things of the sort. It hadn't been until recently, however, that she had learned she could summon objects at will, and it wasn't until that moment it had ever been of any use.

"You underestimate me if you're surprised at a simple parlor trick," she told him. The resentment that had rolled off her tongue moments before was almost invisible now, replaced by a soft smile. "I'm the moon spirit, Sokka—I control the tides and watch over the night—I hold power that even the greatest waterbenders will never know, but you don't think I can steal a rock from your pocket when you're not looking?" She laughed. It was a pleasant sound, kind rather than boasting. She considered the stone in her hand, and she considered the boy.

"Here. Why don't you keep it?" she asked him extending her hand to him, "It'll do you more good than it will me." Sokka looked down at her palm with dumb skepticism, not sure if it was safe to take things from what might just as well be a figment of his imagination. Yue's face fell; he didn't realize how great of a sacrifice this was for her. She was offering to him a year of her mortal life.

Realizing that he wouldn't take it on his own, Yue took his hand in hers and placed the stone in it, in what he saw to be a gesture of kindness, though in her mind she thought with desperation, '_Take this, and let me be_.'

But as the stone dropped into his palm and she closed his fingers around it, she noticed once again that he had become wide-eyed, though now he stared in surprise at their surroundings rather than her or the stone. She turned quickly, looking to see what the matter was.

The Oasis's walls of ice were melting away, quickly being replaced by thick and twisted trees that reached higher than she could ever hope to see into an orange sky. The ground was shifting beneath their feet—the steady plain of grass that had once been was drowning in a flood of swamp water that rose to their knees. A silver crane flew past them, letting out a horrific scream as it went by, then vanished behind the trees.

Yue looked about in a moment of desperate confusion, trying to place exactly where they were. She knew she must have transported somewhere—they certainly weren't at the oasis any longer—but where they had gone, she didn't know.

For the slightest of moments, she stood motionless in confusion, but realization hit her fast and hard.

They were in the spirit world.

It had been entirely accident that she had brought him there; she was quite new at being a spirit and still hadn't entirely learned to control her powers. Accidents like this happened to her frequently, but none of those held the grave consequences that this could have. Her breath escaped from her lips in frightened wisps.

She quickly became corybantic as she tried to figure out a way back. They couldn't stay here— if she were to be caught talking to a mortal, let alone frivolously bringing him into the spirit world, her punishment could be devastating. But how would they return? She wasn't even sure on how they got there, let alone how to get back.

Sokka stared around in wonderment. Though Yue still tightly held his hand, he stepped away from her, his curious mind driving him to exploration. She pulled him back, then let go of his hand, hoping that this would at least send Sokka back to the oasis.

As she suspected, it broke the binding that held him to the Oasis, and the boy vanished. She stood for a moment in, alone within a circle of trees. In her eyes, it was a scary place. Not the kind of scary that would make her run screaming, perhaps; it sent chills down her spine. The mist, the glow-bugs, the cranes that would shriek one moment and speak the next; it was subtly terrifying and she felt thankful that she could spend most of her time in the oasis, rather than here. She closed her eyes and held her breath, sending herself back to where she belonged.

The tall trees and swamp water vanished, replaced by an Oasis that dulled in comparison, and perhaps only dulled all the more by her realization that Sokka had left. Her heart sank in disappointment, though she could easily admit to herself that it was for the better—she had wanted him gone from the beginning, so certainly she should be happy.

As she smiled, appreciation swelling in her chest, she heard a splashing in the pond behind her; a sound that tugged at the corners of her lips. She turned quickly to see the cause of the commotion, only to find Sokka's head bobbling pathetically out of the water, sputtering and coughing, gasping for breath. After a moment of struggle, Sokka pulled himself from the frigid water of the pond and onto the grassy ridge above.

He laid himself over the soft grass, shaking from the cold of the water. His teeth chattered out a rhythm that even the greatest of conductors could never hope to imitate, and he cringed, closing his eyes. Yue observed him with concerned curiosity.

"What _happened?_" she asked, entirely confused. She watched as Sokka shivered, feeling almost guilty.

"I—fell—in," Sokka coughed out to the best of his ability. "Was that," panted breaths broke up his words, "the _spirit world?_"

Yue shook her head in a tight, stiff motion, then asked, "Are you alright?"

The boy nodded and sat up. It was a strain under all his soaked and heavy clothing, coupled with his desperate but futile attempts to bring air into his frozen lungs. Stay clumps of hair fell out of his wolf-tail and stuck to his forehead. He pushed the hair back with his palm, his hands shaking as he did so.

Yue sat next to him, though her eyes were distant, thinking of what had just happened.

"I didn't know I could do that," the words slipped through her lips in a whisper. She chanced glances at him, then cautiously outstretched her hand. Carefully, she let a shaky fingertip touch his chest, curious to see if they would be transported to the spirit world every time she touched him, but nothing happened. She breathed a sigh of relief, and let her entire hand fall upon his shirt. It had been a fluke—an unexplained phenomenon.

The fabric around her fingers began to dry at her touch. She looked upon it with curiosity, pulling her hand away, and then replacing it on his shoulder. Again, the fabric beneath her fingers dried. She raised her other hand to his chest, drying his heavy parka and subduing his shivering. She moved her hands across his clothes, clearing away the cold water and warming his freezing skin. Sokka looked down his nose, watching as her hands slid down his torso.

"What's it like?" Sokka asked after a moment of silence.

"What's what like?" she questioned in return, looking up from her work only momentarily.

"Being a spirit," The boy clarified, and Yue stiffened at this. It was a strange question, but her answer was prepared. It was something she thought about often, having nothing else to do with her time.

"The ultimate goal of all mankind has always been to find immortality," she began, "The search for it has gone on for longer than any spirit can remember. They—we—have seen the great depths to which mortals will sink just to acquire it; murder and thievery. And I've found it. I am the only mortal in the history of the world to unlock the secret to eternal life; I should be happy, shouldn't I?" her voice was quiet, considerate. "But I just wish things could go back to how they were."

Her statement had merited no reply, so Sokka was silent.

Yue's hands slid down Sokka's abdomen and around his sides, then inched up his back, still drying his clothes with her fingertips. As her fingers reached his shoulder blades, she looked up, noticing for once how achingly close they were. Her chest was pressed up against his, and their noses were separated by two inches at the most. He looked down at her with the most curious expression on his face; waiting.

She could have kissed him. He was so close, watching her as if he expected this. She could kiss him, and pull him down to the grass with her, the pressure of his body coming down on her, making her insides go warm. She could have given herself to him—he would have taken her—and for once, a single day, he could have been hers alone. It was all she wanted, all she could hope for, but this fantasy was nothing more than that; a pathetic, longing daydream. Responsibility had to be taken. A balance was to be upheld.

And her heart merely couldn't take it anymore.

She pulled away from him, sitting with her hands in her lap in a way that begged him to do the same. She almost felt herself growing angry at all the things that could be. She felt angry with the boy. She felt angry with herself. She could have cried from that cruel boy's tormenting, but she bit her lip instead, tricking herself into a state of serenity.

It was then that she remembered something she had intended to ask him.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice scratched at the uncomfortable silence around them. Sokka nodded.

"Your mother died when you were younger, didn't she?" Sokka could tell this merely led up to what Yue really wanted to ask. Again, he nodded. Yue's voice softened, "Do you remember her?"

It was a good question. Did he remember her? Of course, there were some things he remembered well—he remembered her death more vividly than he would like to share—but the rest seemed to be a smoky haze at the back of his mind. He could remember that his mother had dark hair and blue eyes, but he could not picture her face; he could recall the lullabies she would use to sing him to sleep, but could not summon the sound of her voice. They were memories he would never win back, and it saddened him. Would his memories of Suki fade in time as well if the unspeakable were to happen?

But while his memories were stale and faded, they were still present. Sokka spared Yue one last nod. Her face fell, and her eyes returned to skimming the water ahead of her.

The girl shook her head. "I can't remember mine," she said quietly. "Not even her name." She searched herself for the memories one last time, and was greeted by a flash of dark hair, a flowing lavender dress. But as quickly as the images had come, they trickled through her fingers and were lost into the air. "She died when I was just five-years-old, but still I should remember her, shouldn't I? I try so hard but it just keeps fading—all of it."

"At first I didn't understand it" she said. "I was losing everything—I couldn't remember what my betrothed looked like, or how I met you, or even…" her voice trailed off into oblivion, in wonder at all the things that could fill that blank. "I've forgotten an entire lifetime in just a few months."

"But then, when I asked one of the other spirits, they said it's because I was once a mortal—we're not supposed to have experienced earthly emotions and biases, and so I'm losing my memory of them. In a year, it will be as if I never even _was_ mortal," She looked up at the boy, "All my memories of my father, my people, of you," the last word was shy and gentle, "Will be gone..." she thought for a moment, "and they're all I have left."

The sentiment left her voice as she continued, "There's one spirit who says he can help me, though I've been told he's dangerous to be around, and I don't doubt it. He's older than the others—He saw the creation of the world—and he says he can tell me how to keep my memories."

"What does he want in return?" Sokka asked, knowing that there must be a catch; a price.

"All he asks is my company," Yue shrugged, "He says he's lonely too. I don't mind it so much; it's nice to have someone to talk to."

"But he hasn't told you how to keep your memories yet, has he?" Sokka asked. This didn't feel right. He could smell trickery in the air. Yue shook her head.

"He says it's not time yet," Yue said, though her voice was unsure. Sokka narrowed his eyes, analyzing.

"You said he's dangerous—why?" Yue bit her lip, looking out over the pond.

"He steals faces," she told him, then quickly added, "but if I'm careful, I have nothing to worry about." Sokka shook his head, his eyes becoming wide once more.

"Yue! That's Koh! Aang told me about him—you shouldn't see him anymore, Yue!" his voice raised in pitch, "Koh's way too dangerous, and I can't let anything bad happen to you!"

"I can take care of myself, Sokka," she told him, casually brushing off his warning. "Nothing bad is going to happen, and even so, this is my decision. You don't need to worry."

"You've got to understand, Yue," Sokka pleaded, "I can't—I…just—"

"What is it, Sokka?" Yue asked, feeling herself become irritated, and Sokka's sputtering only added to her agitation.

"I can't lose you again!" Sokka finally blurted out. Yue's irritation vanished, and she found herself unable to reply. She looked up at the boy, then at the sky. Night had just barely fallen, and she was needed. Her eyes darted on and off his face, then whispered, "I have to go."

Before he could say another word, she was gone, and the moon had taken its rightful place in the sky.

**(A/N:**

"**_In the Brightest hour of my darkest day  
I realized what is wrong with me  
Can't get over you  
can't get through to you  
It's been a helter-skelter romance from the start  
Thake these memories that are haunting me  
of a paper man cut into shreds  
by his own pair of scissors  
He'll never forgive her  
He'll never forgive her  
Because days come and go, but my feelings for you are forever  
Because days come and go, but my feelings for you are forever"_**

**"****Forever" by Papa Roach.**

**Sorry, guys! You waited so, so long for a chapter, and it was crap! Excuse me as I go stab my keyboard for a while…(I'm such a little emo kid sometimes!)**

**(If you can tell me why the second part of the cahpter is called "Art Museum", then you get ten points. Tru fax, man. the points won't mean anything at all(it's like saying online that I'll give you a cookie, but cooler because it doesn't raise your spirits as high)--I just want to see if any of you can figure out the symbolism in that. :) I'll tell it to you if you get it wrong--and if you get it right, well, you'll already know it, won't you!)**


	8. Duty and Heart

**Warrior's Heart  
By: Sasha H.  
Chapter 8: Duty and Heart**

**(A/N: before I begin, I'd like to send out a big thanks to this chapter's beta! While I certainly have enjoyed Ian Reid's controbutions to each chapter through his editing, he was unfortunately a bit busy, and unable to help me with this chapter. That said, I'd like to thank one of my devoted readers, Remuslupinmooney (if you have another name you'd like to be credited with, just tell me and I'll certainly change it! lol. I just didn't know what else to call you.) who beta-ed this chapter for me. Thanks bunches for your help!)**

Sokka dangled his legs over the side of a walkway and skimmed his feet across the surface of the water. He swished them back and forth, making a figure eight with their combined paths and watched as the waterway rippled beneath his toes. It was a calm and lazy morning, devoid for the most part of busy waterbenders and healers bustling through the streets with senses of purposefulness in their steps. It was Sunday—the day of rest and spiritual enlightenment, and most people either praised the spirits at totems scattered throughout the city in the morning, or spent the majority of the day at home with their families. Sokka opted out of both of these choices, feeling he had experienced enough 'spiritual enlightenment' in the past few days to last him a lifetime.

It was nice, being on his own like this. He had no plans to go anywhere or do anything, and that was just fine with him. He tried to keep his mind off of all the things bothering him, and found it easy. Instead, he thought of home; Gran-Gran, his father, and all the little tents that sounded so welcoming now as he looked around at the tall, menacing buildings of snow. He'd probably be back there by the end of the year—the war would be over, and he would be welcomed back as a hero. Girls would be throwing themselves at him from all directions, but he wouldn't need them—he'd have Suki. Maybe she would even come back to the Southern Water Tribe with him?

It was a hopeful fantasy, he knew, but it wasn't entirely impossible—true, Suki would probably be too tired of snow and ice to come live with him in the water tribe, but he could still visit her often on Kyoshi. All this stuff would sort itself out in the end—it always did.

He went on, waving his feet wildly over the edge of the canal and watching the water ripple, making funny designs—He tried to find hidden pictures in the circles, but they grew and changed too fast to create a steady image. The rings of water were almost hypnotizing as he stared at their center. He forgot about his surroundings; the great buildings of ice that surrounded him, the tall prison that was the Northern Water Tribe, the entire world. All felt silent inside his own empty mind.

He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder and shook him.

"Sokka!" Katara's voice fully brought him out of his trance. She sounded worried, panicked even, and her eyes matched this assumption.

"What's wrong?" Sokka asked, his brows furrowing. Katara looked at him, then let her eyes fall to the water, searching for some suitable answer to give him.

"Just come with me," she decided better of sharing specifics. Katara held out her hand to her brother to help him up and when he grabbed it, he instantly knew what this was about. Her face was too tear-streaked to be anything else. Her tongue was too clumsy to utter any words that bade good news. 'I'll come get you if anything happens.' she had promised him. If anything happens to _Suki_ she had meant. Sokka's heart raced, and he was off the ground far quicker that Katara could have ever pulled him off. Soon, he was leading her down the streets, dragging her by the hand. Katara yelled at him to be careful and to slow down, but he didn't hear her. His entire thoughts were so consumed with what he would find when he reached the healing huts, that when he did finally make his way to his destination's door, he was afraid to enter. The two stood in front of the door for a beat, chests heaving more from worry and fear than exhaustion. They looked at each other, Sokka considering in Katara's eyes what exactly he was about to see, and Katara seeing through his how he would react. After a moment, Katara tugged at his hand and led him in.

The normal hustle and bustle of the healing hut was gone. Four women stood quiet and unmoving in the room. Their eyes watched the ground intently as their faces became canvases of guilt. The bravest of the women let her eyes flick up, watching Sokka as he stepped towards the center of the room. Suki lay on a healing table as always. For a moment, Sokka could trick himself into believing she was sleeping. She looked peaceful, even relieved perhaps, but there was no comfort of a rising and falling breaths in her chest.

Somehow her body suddenly looked cold despite her burns. Sokka felt himself tremble.

When his mother had died, he hadn't understood it; he had known the facts, of course, but to _truly_ make sense of them was far beyond him. Death is such a complex idea that accepting it the moment it hits is impossible. It is mulled over with senseless tears for days, or weeks, or even years before it can sink in—before one can even begin to fathom what the passing of a loved one is: a permanent goodbye.

Even still, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea. The logicality inside him told him that everything has a beginning and an ending, but something else buried deep below his surface remained unconvinced. It had felt that, one day, if he merely waited long enough, he would see her again. Perhaps it was the spiritualist in him, telling him to keep faith. Perhaps it was just his inner child begging and hoping for his mother's return.

But now these sorts of goodbyes felt like they were becoming all too common, and the feelings of confusion and loss began to bleed together. This was just another jab. He wondered when there would finally be enough to rip him apart. Perhaps this was it. Or perhaps he would just go numb. Life would be so much more pleasant if nothing could be felt.

Katara's hand comfortingly touched his shoulder.

"Sokka…" she groaned in sympathy. Sokka didn't reply. He stood in numb silence.

"Sokka," she said his name, sharply this time.

"Sokka!" Katara yelled his name, and he felt something hard collide with his head.

Sokka woke up with a start, to find himself in his sleeping bag, the boot that had just hit his forehead, lying next to him.

"Get up!" Katara yelled, exasperated. Sokka rubbed his forehead and moaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the dream from his mind.

"I'm up! I'm up!" Sokka defended as he saw his sister pick up another boot.

-x-x-x-x-

Suki had always been an observant girl—a useful trait in the hands of a warrior. As a small child of eight, just beginning to train as a warrior, Suki remembered sitting for hours on end watching the older girls practice. She studied their every move—every twitch of their muscles and every flick of the wrist—to the point where she could have recited the entire routine from memory before ever even trying it herself. While the other warriors in training got antsy after the first few moments, she remained unmoving through the duration of the practices. She drank in every detail like a prisoner starved for water. She thrived off of it.

Watching the warriors move with such fluidity and grace, she became sure that this was what she would live for; this was her destiny, her calling, her place.

With the gifts of diligence and observance resting on her shoulders, she expected to quickly excel past the other girls her age once they were allowed to begin practicing the sets, and she did. She struggled at times, as they all did, but she had always been quick to progress. In no time, she was the star pupil—after three years, quite a short time in training-terms, she was as good at her craft as any of the fully actualized warriors. They made her one of them by eleven, and by age fifteen she had become the leader of her own team of warriors.

Her mind subconsciously made the connection: careful observation brought success.

She was constantly mindful of her surroundings, analyzing and observing when she went someplace new. Places like Ba Sing Se would remain imprinted vividly in her mind for years. Every building, every dress, every desperate refugee would never leave her memory. She retained this almost habitual vigilance in the Northern Water Tribe.

In the afternoon while the healers worked on her, she would listen in on their conversations. They talked as if she wasn't there, or at least not conscious of them, discussing things as timid as the weather to things as scandalous as the relationships and the dysfunctional marriages of the other members of the tribe. While Suki held no real interest in this frivolous sort of information, she sifted through it, listening for their comments on her condition which were often few, far apart, and vague. She was kept very much in the dark on this topic—they wouldn't even allow her to see her reflection in a looking glass when she asked—eavesdropping was her only source of information.

After much intent listening to their conversations, she had learned far more about the inner workings of the tribe than she had on her medical condition. She could recount all the customs and traditions—she now understood the symbolism behind Katara's little necklace—create a list of who was betrothed to whom, and another list on who wasn't being entirely true in their marriage. Local gossip certainly wasn't her first preference in things to occupy her mind in the expanse of time she had been spending in the water tribe, but it was all that was accessible to her, and she drank it in just as she had drunken in the training routines of her childhood.

But when the healers broke away for lunch, she became very much alone with herself. While some stayed in the healing huts to eat their sea prunes or whatever foreign little dish their children and spouses had dropped off for them, they did not tend to her during their break. Constant attention was no longer required. They had approached a point where there really wasn't anything they could do but wait. If she lasted a few more weeks, then perhaps in time she would someday recover enough to return home. If she died, then they had done all they could. It was only a matter of time.

She did not necessarily mind the breaks they allotted her, however. Their purely cosmetic attempts to clear away useless and destroyed skin were painful in the least, though she was careful to keep her composure through their sessions. She took it like a warrior, biting her lip and sweating bullets, but not allowing signs of weakness to show through in any audible ways. She could almost take pride in herself for this—it was something at least; something that displayed the miniscule bit of dignity she still possessed. In her dream Sokka had been right. She was a warrior, and always would be. Even if that sort of strength could not save her, it could at least let her die with honor.

Her eyes flitted across the healing hut, admiring how it looked in the afternoon sun. It wasn't nearly as ominous now as it seemed in the dark; one could even call it peaceful. The light from the sun was soft, casting long shadows through the windows. Lying on her stomach, she let her eyes follow the shadows through the room like a game of tag, jumping from dark patch to dark patch like a child on checkered flooring.

As her eyes leaped to the next patch of shaded ground, something small caught her attention. It was hidden in the shadows of the healing tables, and far out of immediate notice, lying just below her left arm. Suki leaned toward it, squinting to keep the sun out of her eyes as she admired the object.

The longer she examined it, the clearer it became that this was one of the tools the healers used. She considered telling them that they had dropped something, but then thought better of it. Instead, she checked to make sure that they weren't watching her then strained her arm as far as it would go to reach the object. Grasping it in her hand, she brought it up just inches from her nose to better examine it. It was a fairly long tool made of whale tooth and bone. It had a sharp, curved edge, and a dry coat of blood smeared across the blade. Curious, she thought.

The more she stared at it, the more obvious it became that she had definitely seen this object before. It had been in her dream—it was what she had attacked Sokka with. For a moment, her mind took it as strange coincidence. After all, it was possible, wasn't it? If the mind creates dreams based off of images it sees while it's awake, what's to say that she hadn't seen the scalpal out of the corner of her eye, and then experience a dream based upon it? Yet, at the same time, she wondered if this object proved something. She wasn't sure if she favored this option more, however. While she liked to think that the boy would visit her in the dead of night, she would have very much liked to believe that she had never attached him. She grew sick and just the thought of it. But the weapon she had wielded in her dream just happened to be lying on the ground, hidden and unnoticed with someone's blood painted across it, and nothing to neccissarily prove it was hers.

How far could a coincidence stretch?

She didn't know, and she didn't try to guess. She prayed to the spirits that that she had been the unlucky victim of coincidence, and tucked the utensil within the folds of the linens the healers dressed her in. This way the old women would not see it and take it from her. She wasn't unassailably certain of why, but she wanted to keep it.

-x-x-x-

The boy was careful, creeping through dark alleyways, doing his best to avoid open expanses of snow. It was almost childish, like playing a game of spy, and honestly quite unnecessary, but he did it all the same. Perhaps it made this mission all the more exhilarating? He ducked and dodged areas where the moon illumined the ground, making his journey longer than need be, yet transforming a simple walk into an adventure.

The night was quiet—they always were. There wasn't much in the way of wildlife in the North Pole to cry out at night as Sokka had become used to, giving the air a sense of palpable silence. The only sound penetrating the quiet was the soft staccato lapping of waves as they hit the sides of the walkways. It was a peaceful kind sound that lulled his mind into a trance as he walked. His fervent ducking and weaving in the shadows became less and less common until he stopped the foolishness altogether, his mind carrying the beat of the waves beneath his feet but loosing the capacity to contain anything else.

The lapping of waves that carried the rhythm of his step eventually led him to his destination of the healing hut. He stood stalk still and stiff as an iceberg when he reached it, collecting himself before he entered. The same old woman sat at the building's door, but her usually incessant snoring wasn't present this night. It worried Sokka, though she seemed to be sound asleep. He took in a breath, and carefully pulled away the pelt in the doorframe, walking into the room. A bird mouse couldn't have been quieter.

Moonlight flitted through high windows, casting a soft, turquoise glow across Suki's skin as she lay in the center of the room. An ice moth fluttered around her hair, entangling itself in the matted mess of auburn.

The boy kneeled beside her and concentrated moonlight flooded into his eyes that had been so adjusted to the dark. He squinted to see her. She appeared to be sleeping, but Sokka knew that looks were deceiving.

"Are you awake?" Sokka asked, and Suki was quiet for a long moment. Sokka waited, his breath refusing to leave his lungs, and nearly thought of turning back—if she really were asleep, surely it would be wrong to wake her—when Suki lifted her head in the slightest and grumbled an unintelligible reply.

For the first time in days, she had been on the verge of sleep; that sweet, far thing that had been so elusive to her. She lifted her heavy eye-lids, not conscious enough to even recognize the voice that had pulled her from the slumber that had nearly been hers. Her eyes followed the moon-drenched figure, tracing his outline and analyzing his form with only mild interest. When she was done, she let her sore eyes close, and draped her head once again over the side of the healing table.

Sokka watched this strange action with confused curiosity.

"Suki?" his voice questioned, unsure if the girl was awake, or if this had just been some involuntary, dream-induced action. Suki's shoulders heaved in a sigh, and she rolled further into consciousness. Again, she looked up at Sokka, and his image began to register in her mind. She rubbed her eyes, doing her best to wipe off any dreams that might be hiding just behind her eyelids and distinguish whether or not what stood before her was reality.

After a moment of contemplating the boy, she smiled. Sokka. Her mind ascended one more plane of awareness. She spoke his name with a smile, and began to pull herself over to the edge of the healing table, bidding the boy lay next to her on it. She winced as she pulled herself, using all the strength she could muster, and scraping her burned forearms.

But as she moved, she felt something sharp bite into her leg. She jumped and let out her short cry of pain and surprise before she could remember to stifle it. She recovered herself with short, quick breaths of surprise, and moved her hand to find what had cut her.

Sokka's eyes were large as he asked Suki if she was alright, holding out his hands as if he wished to help her, but not having an idea as to where she was hurt, or how to help. She didn't reply.

From the depths of her linens, she pulled out that incriminating scalpel she had stabbed the dream Sokka with. Fresh blood—her own—coated the tip now, mingling with the blood that had already dried and clung to the blade, but it was not enough to worry her. Sokka watched her, narrowing his eyes as recognition of the tool she held began to dawn on him. He leaned forward and took it from her gently, rolling it over his hands and examining it. Suki let go of her stinging wound and stared up at him, watching a strange expression creep up his face like spider, using its legs to push his features down as it traveled upwards. The corners of his lips pulled down into a frown; his forehead crumpled and furrowed his eyebrows.

"You kept this?" he asked, his voice breaking a long silence. Why, he wondered, would she attack him, and then keep the weapon? Was it supposed to be some sort of memento? It was a morbid idea, and Sokka didn't know what to think. Suki's eyes widened as she looked from Sokka to the small blade. She wondered if this could count as acknowledgement of what had happened. Of the dream.

"So it was real," Suki mumbled to herself, too low for Sokka to possibly hear. She felt her heart fill with relief, and some strange sort of contentedness. It had been such a nice dream, and somehow it was made much more meaningful when it was thrust into the light of reality. Perhaps because now it could be considered clear that the boy did not just care for her within the realms of her own imagination. She could not have said why, but the boy's thoughts had begun to seem so important. And this is perhaps why, after the river of contentedness flowed through her, a splattering of embarrassment brushed her cheeks. Yes, Sokka had come to visit her, saying sweet words of encouragement and hope, but what about her? What had she done? She had attacked him, and then broken down into hysterical tears. It was mortifying.

"I'm sorry!" she began to appologize profusely. "I—I was tired, and confused, and I lost it. I just—I'm sorry." Her tounge tripped over itself as it begged for forgiveness, obscene mortification rolling off of it.

Suki's eyes snapped back up to Sokka. He wore an expression of upset confusion as he leaned closer to her.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, her faux pas of that night clearly not in his mind at the moment. Suki became more confused than ever. She lifted her hand and reached out for the boy's arm. When she found it, she snuck her finger up it, searching for the wound.

"It's gone," she said to herself in shock. "But it was deep. How—?"

"Oh," sokka said, finally understanding her. He took Suki's hand and led it up his arm to where his fresh scar lie. "Katara fixed me up pretty good, huh?"

When Suki felt the scar under her fingertips, she wrenched her hand back. She watched him for a moment, then hung her head over the table. It was just too much.

Seeing Suki's worry, Sokka softened his features and did his best to smile. He could make a joke of it; laugh off the morbidity of the subject just for her.

His smile disappeared again as he saw Suki's hand return to her own wound.

"Hey," he said, "You're hurt". Sokka glanced down and remembered that his blood was no longer the only thing that stained the blade. He would have checked her leg to inspect her wound, but it seemed like an inappropriate thing to do on a girl--especially one wearing as little clothing as she. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, twisting her head to look at the wound on her thigh, then letting go of it and moving further to the side of the healing table, leaving more room for Sokka to join her. After a moment of dumb silence, he realized what she had done, and lay next to her. He lay on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, and ran his thumb over the blade of the scalpel. Sokka contemplated if for a moment.

"You know what this means, right?" he asked, holding up the scalpel as a smile crept back onto his face now that he knew she was alright. Suki shook her head "no."

"This makes us blood brothers," he stopped himself.

"Or sisters," but this didn't seem right either.

"Er…Siblings."

Realizing he needed some of her blood to make this statement true, he picked away at a scab, freeing a cut, and rubbed some of her blood from the blade onto his re-opened wound.

Suki cringed. What a distinctly male thing to do, she thought. But she knew he was trying to be sweet, and appreciated the gesture, even if the thought of picking at scabs was an excruciating idea at the moment. A laugh escaped her throat in forced crow, a strange and foreign sound. Sokka exhaled in a long, slow breath.

"How are you feeling?" Sokka asked, becoming sincere. Suki draped her arms over the side of the table and rested her chin on its edge.

"Tired," she replied in a soft, slow tone. Her words were certainly true, and her exhaustion did not just come from sleep deprivation.

"That makes two of us," the boy replied, letting his fingers sweep at the air, just inches above the ground. "I shouldn't have come. You need your rest. We both do." He moved to get up.

"No, stay," Suki asked of him, taking his hand in hers. "At least for a little longer". His fingers were painfully rough as they intertwined with hers, but she didn't let go, and he couldn't refuse her.

"Sokka?"

"Yeah?"

Suki thought a minute before speaking, wondering if it was wise to even open her mouth in the first place.

"Do you believe in the spirits?" she asked him.

With some, it is easy to tell what they do or do not believe in. They talk about it so openly and so often, it would be difficult not to define them solely by their beliefs. But Sokka was strange, and so far asunder from these people. He didn't speak of what he did or didn't believe, leaving his inner thoughts open for interpretation. Here at the North Pole, the spirits of the ocean and moon were constantly worshipped, starkly contrasting with Sokka's quietness about it all. He never talked about the ocean or the moon spirits. At least not with her ears present, that is. In fact, whenever she had heard Katara bid them mention them while he was around, he became uncharacteristically quiet. It was as if he was trying to hide from her the fact that he had entirely different views on the matter.

"Yes," Sokka said with a shrug in his voice. How could he possibly say he didn't believe in the spirits after all the things that had happened to him; all the ways he had been affected personally by them? There was no room for doubt in his mind; no luxury of question.

Suki felt some sort of relief that she wouldn't have found if he had been to immediately shoot down her question, as well as alleviation for his immortal soul.

"Do you think they choose our fates?" she asked, venturing further with her question. This stumped Sokka. It was something he didn't like to think about, and consequently never had.

"I…I--"

"Do you think they chose mine?" Her voice flitted about the air like the ice moths, strong and air bound, yet so fragile at the same time. It was a solemn idea to think anyone would chose her for this; out of everyone in the world, her. What had she done? How could she possibly deserve it?

Sokka thought of all the spirits, and what could anger them so much as to choose her for this sort of destiny, when it dawned on him that perhaps she hadn't done anything wrong at all. Perhaps it wasn't even her they were angry with. Perhaps it was him they were trying to punish.

Yue hung in his mind, suddenly cast in a wicked, unfavorable light. Surely she wouldn't do something so cruel. It wasn't in her nature. That sweet girl of the water tribe could never even fathom hurting anyone. But could the moon spirit?

She had said she held amazing powers, being a spirit, but what exactly did this entail? The ability to control fates and lives?

He wondered if she had just been playing dumb all along. She could have known about Suki and him all this time. As he thought of it now, why wouldn't she know? She was an all-knowing, all-seeing spirit, wasn't she? How could she not? This could all be some grand, selfish scheme to get him to return to her; one that, in part, had worked. He felt himself growing hot with anger. His cheeks flushed, and he clenched his teeth.

Remembering Suki, he tried to calm himself.

"You want to know what I really think?" he asked her after a long moment. He tried to eliminate all his visible signs of anger. In calming his features, he himself began to feel calm as well.

"What's that?" she asked in return, lifting her head to look at him.

"I think we choose our own destinies," Sokka told her. It was one of those sickeningly sentimental things adults told them, that now he could see as a fraud. He had always known Aunt Woo was full of it. She had told them they could shape their destinies, but it was obvious now that they couldn't; not with the spirits interfering and ruining every plan! Suki groaned and rested her forehead against the table.

"Do you really think I chose this?" Suki asked, her tongue laced with bitterness, "I would never chose to be laying here. If I had any choice, I'd be out there, fighting in this war right now."

"But you do still have a choice," he reminded her. "You could choose to give up and die here, or you could choose to stay strong and make it through this." He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the healing table and sliding down it. He had business to attend to. He needed to speak with Yue. His words, however, were something he did believe. She could take this situation, and make it better. She could pull through this, despite Yue's interferences. She was a warrior. "But that's your choice."

"So that's all you're going to leave me with?" she asked as Sokka left. Sokka nodded and kissed her forehead as he bade her goodnight, though his mind was elsewhere. Her eyes flicked to the ground with disappointment.

Sokka walked with quiet, stiff steps to the healing hut's door, not even turning to look back at her as he left. He was so distracted, so outraged. His fists balled and shook as he walked. Never in a million years would he hit a girl—not unless they were fighting on the battlefield, that is—yet he suddenly had an uncontrollable urge to strike Yue. How could she do this? Perhaps she was angry with him, and she had right to be, but to take it out on Suki? It made him sick. Suki watched him, shadows even further distorting her face, then looked away, hanging her head over the side of the healing table, lazy and tired.

Sokka pulled back the pelt in the doorway of the healing hut, and jumped when he saw two large eyes peering at him. They were eyes he had never seen before, but a face he certainly recognized. Heavy wrinkles framed the eyes, configuring into the face that he knew well as the woman that guarded the healing hut's door.

A loud expletive escaped Sokka's mouth, making the woman jump as it reached her ears.

"There's no need for such language, young man! You're sure to wake the spirits, yelling so loud!" the woman said, his word choice obviously offending her, and Sokka began to apologize profusely. He had been caught. It was the last thing he needed right now. He couldn't help but remember what Katara had said—if he were caught, they could refuse to help Suki as punishment.

Sokka was humbly on his knees, head bowed, and begging.

The old woman merely laughed.

"Get up," she told him, "It's Sokka, isn't it?" Sokka raised his head to look at her. She was smiling. It wasn't a sadistic smile, or anything that seemed particularly threatening; just a smile. But his heart persisted to beat fiercely.

"Y-yes ma'am," he replied, still a little flustered, and then asked, "How do you know my name?" Again, the woman smiled.

"Perhaps I'm not as heavy of a sleeper as you and your sister like to think." She told him, then added, "And you're not as sneaky as you believe yourself to be."

"Am I in trouble?" Sokka asked pathetically. The woman shook her head.

"I need your help," she said, not answering him, "I promise it's in your best interest."

Sokka considered her for a moment, still kneeling on the ground. Whether it was in his best interest or not seemed irrelevant at the moment. This woman had the upper hand on him, and Suki's health hinged on her decisions.

"What is it?" Sokka replied, and he stood up. The woman watched him through crooked eyes as he reached his full hight. There was something about him, she thought; Something similar beyond this trip. She shook the idea from her mind and turned away from him, scuttling across the room. Sokka looked out through the door at the moon, thinking of the mission he had been on only moments before, then turned away to follow the woman.

"Hello, dear," the woman's voice cooed to Suki as she reached the healing tables.

"Hello, Ahnah," Suki replied sparing Sokka side glances that said 'what just happened?'

"Suki, this young man is going to help you sit up, alright?" Ahnah asked Suki.

"What? Are you sure that's a good idea? Is she strong enou--" Sokka began to protest.

"Yes, I am very sure this is a good idea. Now you do as I say, boy. I can't help her up myself, and you wouldn't want me to go tattling about your midnight excursions here, would you?" the woman warned. Sokka let out a long breath, and leaned into Suki to do as he was told.

"You were caught?" Suki asked Sokka in a whisper as he leaned close to her. There was worry in her voice. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Sokka whispered back, then said louder, audibly for Ahnah, "I'm going to roll you onto your back, okay?" It seemed to be best to inform her as he did each step of this procedure. Sokka put his hand on her shoulder, then stood dumbly, wondering where he should put his other hand. Hip? Waist? This southern region of the female anatomy was foreign to Sokka, and he became unsure of what was appropriate in this situation.

After a moment of dumb contemplation, Ahnah watching him with stifled amusement all the while, Sokka put his hand on Suki's mid thigh, and rolled her as quickly as he could manage. She yelped during the process, wincing as her burns scraped against the table.

Upon her cry, Sokka looked up at Ahnah. Surely she couldn't still think this was a good idea. And yet, there she stood, patient and expecting.

Seeing he was expected to continue, he reluctantly turned to Suki and said "I'm going move your legs over the side of the table and help you up now, alright?" Suki clenched her teeth and nodded. "I'm going to count to three."

"One," Sokka put one arm under the crook of Suki's knees.

"Two," he put his other arm around her back.

"Three," Sokka was quick, moving her body, and pulling her into a sitting position. Her burned skin folded over on itself, dead skin scratching excruciatingly on her wounds. She cried out, then bit her lip, panting. Sokka looked at her with frantic eyes, upset that it was him causing her this pain. He had to hold her up, her abominable muscles seeming to have forgotten how to do their duty.

"…Other side…" she panted out, nodding her head to her right, which was less burned than the side Sokka currently held her on. He quickly readjusted to her wishes. Her frock, kept loose to keep from agitating he wounds, slipped slightly off her shoulder.

Sokka looked up at Ahnah.

"Really, this can't be a good idea! Just let me put her back down." Sokka asked her, nervousness knotting his stomach.

"No. I need to prove something first." The woman said. "Help her stand up. Get her to her feet." Sokka was reluctant.

"I-I can't do that," Suki told her. "I know what you're trying to do, but you heard the healers yourself. It's not going to happen."

This talk was cryptic to Sokka.

"Well, this will just be our little experiment," Ahnah replied, an unreadable smile on her face. Then she turned to Sokka. "Help her to her feet."

"Fine," Suki said, jaw clenched. She looked at Sokka, her expression expectant.

"Are you ready?" Sokka asked, not wanting to push Suki beyond her limits, or cause her any more pain, but bound by this woman's orders and Suki's glare.

Suki let out a tired sigh, and nodded. Sokka lifted her off the table, and balanced her on her legs. She winced as pain shot up from her bare feet, and her legs turned to jelly. As much as she tried, she couldn't balance on them. She couldn't find her footing. She teetered back and forth on shaky knees for a moment, before she collapsed under her own weight. Sokka caught her just before she hit the ground. He pulled her up, and supported her weight on his shoulders.

Suki's frock was slipping dangerously low from around her neck. Sokka did his best not to think of it, or, spirits forbid, look.

"You didn't try," Ahnah noted. Suki looked down at her. Her eyes were cold and blank; flecked with bits of anger—and something else. It was a spark; the kindling's of the fire that had once been inside of her waited just beneath this outer shell of charred flesh and minimized expectations. "Just once more."

"You're a cruel old woman," Suki said with, to Sokka's surprise, a laugh. She was joking. He found himself entirely confused with this exchange. Should he be fighting to let Suki rest, or merely be an onlooker to what was happening, and do as he was told?

"Ready?" Ahnah asked this time.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up," Suki reminded her as form of a 'yes'. She merely stated it as a matter of fact. Even with Sokka supporting her, he could tell she was losing her strength quickly. This whole ordeal was a tremendous strain. More than he could even seem to fathom. And yet, her words sounded more like a challenge to the old woman than they did an admission of weakness

"I guess we'll just have to see, then," Ahnah encouraged once more.

Suki clenched her teeth, and became immersed with concentration. Her thin knees, which had hung loosely beneath her pelvis, began to tremble. Her ankles shifted beneath her. The flats of her feet found even ground.

Sokka began to feel the weight he supported on his shoulders lighten as Suki straightened herself.

"Let go of her!" the old woman told Sokka. Her voice hinted suggestion, though the command was urgent; a 'now or never' sort of request.

Nervous and unsure, Sokka did as he was told, slowly removing his shoulder from under Suki's arm, and merely holding her hand to help her balance.

She was standing. All by herself. She was shaky and unsure at best, but standing all the same. Sokka could see the corners of her mouth beginning to turn up to a smile, though she tried to hide it, not wanting to give Ahnah the satisfaction. Sokka felt pride growing in his chest.

But when Ahnah grinned back, she merely gave him the feeling that this was not the end of her plan.

"Go stand in front of her, boy." She told him, "Let her hold your hands, in case she needs your help. Suki, you know what to do."

"It's not going to happen," Suki said once more, but she was smiling now, not as convinced by her words as she had been before. "You heard the healers. I can't--"

Again, the conversation was becoming cryptic, and Sokka was becoming impatient.

"Just try," Ahnah repeated.

Suki looked down at her feet, nearly falling when she first lowered her eyes. She merely stood there for a moment, examining her toes as if she were daring them to trip her, or collapse beneath her. Then, after receiving as much satisfaction as was possible, she looked straight ahead. Her eyes met with Sokka's, his illuminated by moonlight, and she flashed him a smile that he couldn't decipher even if she had given him a million years to discover it's true meaning. Her grip on his hands tightened, pushing as much weight as was possible through her palms for support.

She moved one foot in front of the other, wincing as it touched the ground. It was excruciating—She felt as if her soles were being gnawed at, chipped away; it was as if she was walking on glass. She gritted her teeth, and shut her eyes tight, then shook herself, freeing her mind from pain. Again, she opened her eyes to look at Sokka. He looked concerned, just as she had expected being as overprotective as he was. She took another step. And another. The impossible high she felt soon outweighed the pain. She was walking! It was slow, and unrealistic for sufficient self-transportation, but it was walking all the same.

The Healers had said she couldn't do it. They had told her the first time she had gained full consciousness and she asked about her condition that she would be bedridden, if not for her life, for many years. Essentially, they had doomed her to the life of a cripple. But now she had proved them wrong. Oh, now she had proved the world wrong, the spirits wrong, and herself wrong.

The moment of glory ended as she stumbled and fell forward, her weak legs unable to carry her any further. Sokka caught her as her knees hit the ground and they both let out short breaths of surprise, their chests rising and falling rapidly together. She gave up on any sort of further attempt to support herself, and buried her face in his collar. She was tired, and had done what she had set out to do. What was the point of causing herself further exhaustion?

She let out a low, muffled laugh into his chest. As it grew, she began to feel his chest shake as well. He was laughing. It was an uncontrollable sort of reaction to what had just happened. Some kind of mix of joy and pathetic relief that was peregrine to the both of them.

"That will do," Ahnah said quietly, her voice sounding muffled by the magnitude of Suki's actions. Sokka helped Suki back to the healing table, her body feeling limp and uncaring; relieved. Suki tried not to smile as Ahnah watched her, but couldn't help the upturning of her lips.

"This isn't as hopeless as you think," the woman told her. "I think you'll be leaving here soon enough," then she added with a playful laugh, "You'll finally be out of my hair!"

Suki felt a tingling in her stomach. She felt almost ridiculous now as she thought back on how dreadfully hopeless she had become. She hadn't eaten for weeks, just to end it all and let the others leave, when now it seemed that perhaps this could end in another way besides her own death. There was a strange sort of excitement bubbling inside her that she tried to repress. "When do you think I can go?"

She said it with such eagerness that the woman had to bite her lip and feel as if she should never have said anything to begin with.

"Mind you, this is good time in comparison to what the others have been telling you," she stalled, "very good time…" Suki waited eagerly, though her smile was slipping from the woman's tone. Ahnah's words became fast, apologetic and explanatory. "You see, you're burns are just so extensive—and you're so susceptive to infections and temperature. I couldn't possibly let you leave here until I was certain you'd be okay." This was true sentiment. Not just some flimsy medical promise, or vow to protect anyone who came through the healing hut's doors; she had grown so fond of the girl, she couldn't possibly let her leave without being certain that she would make it.

"When?" Suki asked again, sounding strained.

"Winter, perhaps, at the earliest? Though I couldn't say that I'd suggest traveling through the North Pole in winter while you're in your weakened state."

Suki's face fell with this. Winter? The eclipse was in midsummer, and the others wouldn't leave without her. This was what she had been afraid of. They would miss the eclipse by the time they allowed her to leave. The world would miss its chance at liberation from the fire nation, and she would be entirely to blame. Perhaps if the woman had said a few weeks, or possibly even a month, it could have saved her, but winter? She couldn't let them miss their chance. Being a warrior meant, among many other things, self sacrifice when it was needed. And as much as the idea scared her, as much as she shook at the thought, she could see that this was onr of those times. Perhaps not this moment, but in the near future. Suddenly, she wanted them both gone. She needed to think—needed a moment to be alone as the weight of this crashed down on her.

Aang wouldn't leave until she was capable of travel, or dead. It seemed now that the only option available was the latter. She became quiet and sent off an unwelcoming air to the other two. She could feel them physically parting themselves from her, subconsciously backing away from the aura of certainty and fear that she cast off.

Sokka's mind wandered, released by Suki's internal dismissal of the two. His eyes flicked to the window, catching moonlight on his lashes.

He remembered his anger, and why he had been in such a hurry to leave earlier. His fury had cooled over by the power of events prior, but there was still tension in his throat. He couldn't have heard the thoughts running through Suki's mind, or understood how much she truly needed him to stay at the moment. He could only feel his intense need to confront Yue; to make her change things back. If she could ruin a life, certainly she could fix one too?

He didn't want to wait to find out. Again, he bade Suki a quick goodbye, but as he turned to leave, Ahnah caught his arm.

"Wait," she said quickly. When he turned, she studied his face. Again, he seemed familiar. She searched her mind for images of that face. How it would ache her if she never placed that boy with the images of the past that she knew were buried deep in her brain!

The moon backlit the curves of his head and neck, shining a strange glow on his features and dawning realization upon her. Her eyes widened as she finally recognized him. He was the boy from the Southern Tribe—the one who had helped them during the Fire Nation's Siege.

"What is it?" Sokka asked, anxious to leave.

Ahnah regained her posture and said, "Oh, nothing. Be on your way, now. Sunrise is near, and I don't care to imagine what kind of trouble I would be in for allowing a male visitor in here in the dead of night. Scandalous!" She let go of Sokka's wrist, and after another word of 'goodbye' he was gone.

The woman turned toward Suki. The girl watched the boy walk away, and then drooped her head back over the edge of the healing table once he was out of view.

"You don't seem very satisfied with your victory," Ahnah noted as she found herself a seat.

"Huh?" Suki asked. Her face darkened when her mind brought her back to the conversation, "Oh, no. I'm very happy. Never been better."

"Then what bothers you, child?" Ahnah asked.

Suki said nothing.

"You aren't happy with my time estimate, are you?"

Again, Suki didn't reply.

"Now, dear, what is a few months? Passage of time can be meaningful no matter where or how it's spent. I'm sure you're aching to go home, but really there's nothing to be done but wait."

"It's not that I can't wait," Suki finally spoke. There were touches of anger in her voice, though she didn't know towards whom they were aimed at. "It's the eclipse," she said absently, not expecting the old woman to understand.

"You're worried the others will miss the invasion because they're here with you instead?" Ahnah spoke with great insightfulness. Suki raised her head suddenly to look at the old woman.

"How did you know about the invasion?" she asked urgently.

"Dear, you should know better than anyone how quickly word gets around here. No one knows when to keep their mouth shut. And with gossip as exciting as that, are you really surprised at how fast it spread?" Ahnah reminded her. Suki nodded her head, accepting this.

"What should I do?" she questioned. "I can't let them miss the invasion, but they won't leave without me…and you said it will be months before I can leave, and even then it will be too late. The world needs this chance, and it will be my fault that we weren't able to save it!" Ahnah seemed unmoved and unsurprised.

"That is quite a predicament, isn't it?" Ahnah sighed. She thought on what to say for the slightest of moments, then turned to the girl. "Have you ever heard the legend of the Moon Spirit?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Suki asked, let down by a change of topic.

"Perhaps more than you may currently realize. Have you heard it?" the old woman wore a small, anticipating smile.

"I don't think I have." Suki told her, disappointed by the replacement of anecdotes over the advice she ached for.

"Oh, it's quite an interesting story. Did you know that The moon spirit as she is today was not always a spirit? At one time, she was mortal, just like you or me. In fact, she was even around your age—she had just turned sixteen." Ahnah looked down at Suki, who looked quite uninterested. "She was the princess of this tribe and of unfailing beauty and character, just as any princess should be. As expected, on her sixteenth birthday she was engaged to a boy of her tribe. He was handsome and strong, but at the same time dishonorable and crude. While she did not love him and did not wish to spend her life with the foul boy she had a strong sense of duty and promised to her father and tribe that she would marry him. Shortly after her betrothal, visitors came to the tribe from a far-off lands. One of these visitors was a handsome boy of our Sister Tribe. Immediately, he was caught by her beauty, and she was mesmerized by his pure heart and wit. Soon, they began meeting in secret, though the girl was torn. While she was engaged to another, she loved this new-comer. Yet despite her feelings for him, she repeatedly sent the boy away, knowing that the duty she held was to her people and not her heart.

"But one day in Winter, the sky and snow went black. The fire nation had arrived in the Northern Tribe for its first attacks. The leader of the invasion was a man with evil intentions—he had learned of the Moon spirit's mortal form, and had the intention of killing it. The moon is the source of all water bending, you know, and destroying it would give the fire nation impossible amounts of power over the people of the water tribe. When the invaders found the Moon Spirit, it was mercilessly killed. The water tribe was suddenly powerless as the fire nation continued its attacks. The Spirit of the ocean was enraged by the murder of it sister, and destroyed the fire invaders, yet not even this could bring back the spirit of the Moon. Without the spirit of the moon, the world would be thrust into unbalance. The Princess, however, harbored a dark secret. As an infant, she had been very sickly and doomed to death, but in a desperate attempt to heal her, her father had taken her to the spirit oasis—the home of the ocean and moon spirits. The moon spirit was generous that day, and had given her part of its life force so that she could live. The princess knew that some of the moon still lived within her, and she could give that life back.

"She knew it was the only way to preserve the balance of the world, and her people, but that didn't mean it was an easy decision. Her wicked betrothed had died in the fight with the invaders, releasing her binds to him, and at last allowing her a chance to be with the boy she loved. For once, she had the opportunity to choose to follow her heart rather than her duty, yet despite her chance, she betrayed her own wants. While the boy begged her to stay, she turned from him and offered her soul to the moon spirit. It took her, and only left the empty shell of her body. She died, leaving everything behind, to restore order and peace to the world.

"Today, she is revered as the bravest warrior our tribe has ever known." Ahnah concluded, smiling down at the girl.

"But she wasn't a warrior—she didn't fight--" Suki began to comment.

"Ah, but she did fight! It was a different kind of battle, perhaps, but an even more difficult one than any physical war. She had an internal battle, and selflessness won. Didn't you listen to that boy when he was here the other night? She was a warrior of the heart."

"It can't possibly be a true story, though. No spirit has ever been mortal." Suki said sensibly.

"Perhaps you're right," Ahnah said with a sly, tight smile. "It's only a legend. After all, the water tribe is known for its tall tales. But perhaps you can still draw wisdom from it? I trust that you know your duties, and if the time comes, you will honor them."

**(A/N: One more chapter of nothingness. I promice that this is the end of the lull. I finally got everthing out of the way that I had to. Things should start cooking next chapter. Thanks for reading, and sorry for making you wait so long (god, so much stuff has been going on. So may changes!)...so what'd you all think about the series finale? I thought it was pretty dang epic.**

**Oh, wait! Remember how I asked all of you guys what the meaning behind the chapter title "art museum" was? Just too see if you would get it? Well everyone who guessed was all like "That's easy! I know what it is!" BUT all of you got it wrong. Ahahaha! I am victorious. Also, I reached 100 reviews, and then some. Thanks for helping me with my goal! Totally exciting!**

**no song right now! haha. what a bummer.)**


	9. Yue and Koh

**Warrior's Heart  
By Sasha H.  
Chapter 9: Yue and Koh**

What is the origin of human nature? It has always been the goal of mankind to find out. Are we born as evil, greedy and contemptuous from the start, kindness being a learned trait? Or are we naturally good, selfless and caring at our roots until the heart is corrupted? It is a conundrum with no end: a cycling balance of dark and light. Selflessness and selfishness. Perhaps the origins of human nature can only be judged on a personal scale? If certain behavioral traits could be passed through generations, why couldn't instincts of good and evil?

Yet, despite instincts at birth, all are capable of great good and great evil if the time and influence calls. The kindest of hearts can be corrupted, while the contemptible can be enlightened. Feelings of desperation and anger can easily leave the heart blind, leading it astray. It may never again find its path.

Sokka thought on the low creature as he stormed towards the oasis in which she resided. It was strange how quickly his feelings for her could go from ones of quieted longing to desperate hatred. It sickened him to think of what she had done. How could anyone slip so far from grace? He found himself wondering if it had been the spirit world that had corrupted her, or if she had just always been this way, and he had been too blind to notice?

As he entered the oasis, he felt energy of the place race to escape the negative aura he cast off. He completely contradicted the true ideals of serenity and peace that traditionally flowed through the air, and every element took notice. The spiritual energy that the creatures of the oasis had basked in cringed and crumpled under the pressure of Sokka's rage.

"Yue!" he yelled out her name, calling her from wherever her spirit hid. Her name flew out of his mouth in a forced bark, repelling itself off the walls of the oasis as it hit them and throwing itself back into Sokka's face, echoing over and over again in his ears. Sokka clenched his teeth and balled his fists. Just the mere sound of her name, calling over and over to him, angered him to no end. "Yue!" he snarled again. Once more, his voice bounced off the high cliffs surrounding him and her name came back to him as a soft vibrato in his ears. After a moment, even the echoes had gone, and he was left in silence.

Silence is the only sound that can drive a man to insanity.

Sokka looked around quickly to see if Yue had appeared, but the oasis seemed even emptier than it had been when he came. What a coward, he thought; a pathetic coward. What next, he wondered. How could he coax her out of hiding?

The boy whipped around and found himself dropping before the pond at the center of the oasis. He glared past its glossy surface at the two fish who, despite their wickedness, swam in a perfect, content little circle. How smug they were, Sokka thought. How smug _all_ the spirits were. They acted so polite and caring when they deigned to visit the lower mortals, but in reality, they all were self-absorbed cowards, holding positions over all of them like puppeteers with no risk to themselves.

"Yue!" he yelled, this time into the depths of the pond. The silver fish did not even turn to acknowledge him. It merely continued with its eternal, mocking dance. He felt his fingers gripping the blades of grass beneath his palms. He ripped and choked them at the stalks and they fell dead in his hands. He stared directly into the silver fish's marble eyes as it swam past him, an arrogant swing in its tail. He could almost hear her mocking him, laughing at his inferiority from beneath the surface of the pond.

He yelled out in frustration, for he did feel inferior. He had invested so much of himself within this girl, and she had betrayed him. His teeth clenched. How he despised her! Every fiber of his very being was filled with disgust. He shook in his anger and struck the pond's visage with his hand. Water flew upward around his fist, and then came down in an elliptical shower. The fish shuttered as the water around them was disturbed, pushing them away from the center of the pond. The ebony fish faltered under the unfamiliar, twisting current, and broke from the eternal cycle. Quickly, after a moment of dazed confusion, it regained itself and swam to its partner.

Finally, Sokka saw the reaction from the silver fish that he had been waiting for. She stopped moving and turned to him. Her obsidian eyes met with his, daring him to move—to anger her further. He merely glared in return, egging her to emerge from the protective shield of her spirit form.

At this, the fish began to glow, and it turned over, as if in death. Sokka held his breath.

"Why are you here, Sokka?" a voice asked sharply behind him. Sokka turned quickly to face Yue, standing just behind him. "You come here, ripping at sacred ground, and disturbing the eternal cycle--What do you want with me? What is so important that you need consult of the spirits?" she prodded, resentment weighting on her voice. Sokka wondered why she sounded so angry with him after what she had done. She had gotten her revenge.

Sokka brought himself to full height. He was taller than her, and it gave him a superficial sense of power as he looked down on her. Seeing his expression, Yue's face hardened further. This was not to be a friendly visit.

Sokka decided to get straight to the point. There was no need for eloquence or typical social traditions now.

"Why did you do it?" Sokka demanded, advancing on her. His voice cut through the air like a sword. He shook and snarled, giving himself a strikingly savage air. It was the most frightening and intimidating form of himself that he could manage.

Yue appeared unmoved. She stood, arms crossed, with a tired look painted on her features.

"Do what, Sokka?" she asked coldly, though his manner frightened her. His barriers were gone—he was angry, and had no thoughts of limitation or morals now. He wasn't like the boy she knew. He was dangerous.

He couldn't even hear her over the rush of blood in his ears.

"How could you do that to her?" he yelled. Yue winced at his tone.

"What are you talking about, Sokka?" she asked, still trying to appear calm as he advanced on her, though heavy breathing revealed her. She began stepping backwards to create distance, but he merely closed it as she moved.

"Stop playing dumb, Yue!" he ordered her. He knew she would deny what she had done—he just knew. This new Yue was far too proud to admit to any moral ambiguities she might have possessed. He would have to force the truth out of her, so he advanced. Her eyes widened as the gap between them closed in more and more. As she backtracked she stumbled over a stone and gasped as she began to fall backwards. With a blink of the eye, she had vanished and reappeared at the edge of the pond.

After a second of dazed confusion over her whereabouts, Sokka whipped around to face her again. "I'm tired of being lied to!" he yelled. Quickly, he began to advance on her again, yet this time she had nowhere to escape to.

"I've never lied to you, Sokka! I don't know what you're talking about!" As he closed the space between them, she glanced behind her. If she were to take one step back, she would be in the pond. If he came too close, perhaps this could be her escape from his rage.

He wouldn't listen to her pleads of innocence. She was lying—he knew it. The boy found himself laughing internally. She had been caught, and now she was sorry—now she wished she hadn't done anything to Suki. If only wishing could reverse actions, he thought.

"She did nothing to you! How could you hurt her?" he asked. His voice broke from intensity. "I'm the one you should be mad at—me! If you were going to punish someone, why not me?"

"You're scaring me, Sokka! What are you talking about?" Yue begged. He was closing her in with the side of the pond. She looked, wide eyed, from him to the water's edge, and then vanished. Sokka whipped around to her, standing just behind him now, and grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her toward him.

"Stop it!" he yelled, loudest of all, and Yue cringed as Sokka yanked her towards him. Time stopped as his voice reverberated off the oasis walls. Their chests heaved together in fear and rage, becoming loudly noticeable when the echoes had gone and quiet settled across the oasis like fresh-fallen snow. Sokka glared down at the girl. He finally had her where he wanted her.

Yet, he felt himself soften as he took her in. She was cringing, her shoulders raised protectively with her body and head turned slightly to protect her face, and he noticed she was crying. Not loudly, or without restraint of course, but her eyes were glossy and her cheeks were stained. In that moment of silence and awareness he found that his own eyes were wet as well.

Yue peered at him out of the corner of her eyes after the strained moment had passed. He wasn't going to strike her—if he had, it would have been a swift, fluid motion in connection with the grabbing of her wrists. Now that she thought of it, even if he had been going to hit her as she had assumed, she could have simply vanished, reforming somewhere else in the oasis. She could have escaped to the spirit world. Why had this thought not occurred to her at the moment? Why had she merely turned her head and braced herself for an impact? Perhaps elements of humanity still ran deep through her veins. Her powers certainly were not second nature to her yet.

Yue took in a deep, shaky breath, doing her best to bring a sense of collectedness to her features, and then looked down at her wrist, still clenched tightly in the boy's hand. She closed her eyes, searching through her own knowledge of the powers she had been endowed with as the moon spirit. Sokka watched as her fingers slowly started to lose opacity before his eyes, vanishing with the rest of her hand until it was completely invisible, and she slipped from his grasp.

She stepped away from the boy, her head held high in the silence, watching him through glassy eyes.

"Were you trying to hurt me, Sokka?" was the first thing she asked as she turned and stepped away. She said it plainly, tall and proud in manor, swaying as she walked. She stopped when she decided she was in a safe range of him, and turned to watch him as his head reeled.

Sokka stood dumb-struck and motionless. His expression turned from one of rage to one of pathetic desperation, thinking both on what she had done, and what he had done. He had lost himself, just for a moment. Anger now would not give him anything but more grief, but no amount of corrupted morals he had momentarily possessed would distract him from her evil deeds.

"Why?" he asked simply, figuring that the question would be understood. She knew why he was here. She knew exactly what he meant. He stopped himself from advancing on her, or casting off any sort of air that could hint at the loathing he felt.

"Why, what?" Yue asked. "Who are you talking about?"

The boy couldn't believe it. Still, she was pleading innocence and playing dumb.

"Suki. She's the girl--" he began to explain, and then stopped himself. Certainly, she'd know exactly who he was talking about—he wouldn't have to explain her. This was just part of her game--She was still pretending that she knew nothing. He sighed, feeling as if he had lost in some way—or perhaps Yue merely liked to think she was still victorious. "I know you're mad at me, and you had the right to be…I just— don't understand why you would take it out on her, and not me. I'm the one who deserved to be punished. Not her. She did nothing. She knew nothing."

Yue's head, which had been turned away from him slightly in resentment, perked at this in curiosity.

"Suki?" she asked. Her arms were crossed over her chest, giving her a more accentuated appearance of height. Sokka noticed her unrealistically slender waist and shoulders, and he found himself wondering if she had looked quite as disproportionately lanky in life, or if being a spirit actually changed her physical appearance to fit her further into their world's highest standards of beauty. "I've never heard that name," Yue told him. "Who are you talking about?" She asked him this in sincerity, and found herself longing to understand the boy. When he didn't reply, she thought to herself, piecing things together that he had said, eventually creating the likes of a map in her own mind, covered primarily with spills of ink but still readable enough to show her a path. After a long moment of patient silence, she spoke again.

"She's why you're here, at the North Pole, isn't she?" she asked, and Sokka was silent. "I know you're not just visiting, Sokka. There's too much to be done with the eclipse coming for you to just be 'visiting' like you said."

"How did you know about the eclipse?" Sokka asked with surprise. Yue found a laugh that was far from cheerful escaping her.

"I'm the moon, Sokka. Don't you think I might play a role in a solar eclipse?" she asked him. There was something in her voice that seemed to pity him. It laughed at the poor, mortal fool before her; ignorant and inferior.

Sokka found himself feeling impossibly asinine. Not only had he been caught in his secret fully now, but he had also made himself look like a fool. Yue didn't seem to acknowledge the blush creeping into his cheeks, however, and merely continued with her theory. She furrowed her brow now as she thought on these specifics—these details were far sketchier in her mind, but the boy could correct her if she inferred wrong.

"She was hurt somehow, so you came to get the help of the healers—and now you think that I was the one who hurt her?" she asked, furrowing her brow as she verbalized her suspicions. "But why would you think that, Sokka?" Sokka was silent, waiting. He suddenly felt childish. "Why, of everyone in the world, and every spirit in the cosmos, would it be my fault?" Yue considered this for a moment, and then looked up at the boy. She spoke slowly, mulling over the words as they escaped her lips, "You're involved with her, aren't you? And you thought I was jealous?"

The words had been said. Sokka let out a great sigh, as well as Yue. Their relationship had been over before it had even began, yet Yue couldn't help feel heart ache at this revelation.

The weight of this finality saddened her, forcing her to turn from the boy and walk towards the rim of the oasis. Perhaps, in the smallest amount, the beliefs were now true? Her heart was strung with the tiniest strings of jealousy, but she did her best to cast these thoughts and feelings aside. This wasn't about her—not in the least.

"Should I say that I'm flattered you believe I have that kind of power, or insulted that you think I would let my temper get the better of me like that?" Yue asked, pretending to be occupied with a loose strand of hair. She didn't feel the strength to look at him for long.

Sokka bowed his head shamefully in reply.

"So…so you didn't do it?" he asked dumbly, needing a straightforward answer to clear his mind.

"No, Sokka," Yue said, and then took a place on the grass. She let her hand fall to a patch of grass beside her, signaling to the boy to sit down. He stood for a moment, unsure.

"Very few spirits have the ability to bend destinies—I certainly am not one of them. And even so, we are not to blame for everything wrong in your world. Perhaps we do will things to happen on occasions, but some of it must be left to karma--"

"She did nothing to deserve what happened to her," Sokka interrupted quickly.

"And most must be left to pure happenstance." She continued. "Everything happens for a reason, but that does not mean that those reasons are planned by the spirits. We are not the ultimate controllers, you know. There is a higher force—the cosmic power of the universe. And who knows, perhaps there is an even greater power above it? Who am I to know?"

Sokka thought this sounded strange. He had always been taught that the spirits were the highest forms of influence, yet Yue herself seemed unsure of this. Suddenly all his ideas of the spirits were muddled and irrelevant.

Yue noticed how distracted the boy seemed. Was he disappointed by what she had told him? Perhaps he had, in a way, wanted her to be the culprit for whatever had happened. It was understandable for him to want someone to blame; someone to take his anger out on, and she had denied him of this type of closure and revenge.

"What happened to her?" Yue asked him in the hopes of bringing him away from these kinds of thoughts. He looked down at his feet and did his best to separate fact from feeling as he thought on what to tell her. If emotion infiltrated the story, it could become lengthy and rigid. If he only told her the facts, he could separate himself from the words, making them so much easier to speak, yet perhaps this would remove the meaning of the tale. He decided to get straight to the point.

"Long story short, she was in a Fire Nation prison, and when we tried to help her escape, she was burned." Sokka told her. Yue nodded softly at this, taking the information down in her head.

"How bad is it?" Yue asked, though she suspected it must be quite substantial if they had taken her all the way to the Northern Water Tribe.

Sokka didn't know how to describe it in a tasteful way. Should he describe how she looked, or the amount of pain she was in? Should he tell her Suki's survival statistics?

Eventually, he settled with a single word, "extensive". Yue noted his hesitation and bit her lip.

"Will she be alright?" Yue asked him. Finally, Sokka took a seat next to her on the grass. He closed his eyes, and laid his head back on clasped hands. His lungs expanded with a deep breath, and then released it slowly through his mouth.

"I don't know. Maybe. Hopefully." He said. He was trying not to think about any other ending to this than her being perfectly alright. Yue saw this, and bowed her head. This was no longer in any way an argument. It was an admission. "I just--" he stopped. "She's gotten better since we brought her here, but it doesn't mean much. We still have no idea what's going to happen. Everything's so unsure right now."

Sokka was still, thinking. There was a strange look across his face that Yue didn't quite recognize. It told her to change the topic in some way; to find something lighter.

"What's she like?" Yue asked.

"She's--" he didn't know where to begin, but he smiled as he thought of her. "She's a warrior. From Kyoshi Island. She's the leader of her group, and very skilled."

"When did you meet her?" Yue asked.

"A few months before I met you. It was maybe a week after I joined the Avatar." Sokka told her sheepishly. He found himself worried that she'd be angry that this newcomer wasn't as new as she believed her to be. It didn't seem to faze Yue, however. She merely seemed to accept the facts he presented her with, store them in her mind, and move on to the next question.

"Is she pretty?" Yue asked. She then wondered if 'was' would perhaps be the proper tense for this question. He did say the girl's burns were extensive, after all.

"She's beautiful," Sokka replied simply, without hesitation. Yue found herself smiling at this. He was such a kind-hearted boy no matter how tough he pretended himself to be. It didn't seem to matter that he was talking about someone else when he spoke in such a way. It somehow made her feel warm inside. And at the same time, it made her want to cry.

But there was one more question that had to be asked.

"Do you love her?" Yue asked. This was perhaps most imperative of all. Sokka, however, looked taken aback.

He had never truly thought on it. In fact, he had never really thought of using words to describe his feelings for any girl. It had all been expressed through his actions, his hope, and eventually his disappointment. It was strange to try and ask himself this question now, with an expecting audience. Yet he found an alternative; a way to display his feelings without any use of words.

"Can I show you something?" he asked confidently, forgetting for a moment exactly whom he was talking to, and the past he shared with her.

"Certainly," Yue replied, though she felt confused by this. What could he possibly show her that would answer this question? Sokka smiled and dug into his pocket. After a moment of searching, he pulled out a small, iridescent stone, and handed it to her.

"The moonstone?" Yue asked as she took the stone from the boy. But as she looked down on the fragile stone in her hands, she began to realize that there was something different about it. It had been carved and shaped around the rim. She furrowed her brow and looked up at him.

"Turn it over," Sokka told her, a note of pride in his voice. As she did so, her eyes widened. On the other side of the stone was a crude carving. It depicted the northern star, and symbol of hope and guidance in their land, with a crescent moon creating a border. Within the center of the star, the character for 'Heart' had been carved. While the carving was simple and crude, and obviously created solely by Sokka by its quality, it had its own kind of inexplicable beauty. She looked from the carving to the boy.

"A betrothal necklace," she said, wide-eyed. This was not something she expected of the boy, and it shocked her. "Are—are you sure?"

"Yeah." He replied. "I think I am." There was a maturity to his voice that he rarely possessed.

"But you said she's from Kyoshi—will she know what it means?" Yue asked. The boy seemed so calm for what he was showing her. Why was it that, while she was uninvolved in this, she was the one that was worried?

"No, I don't think so. They don't have that tradition on Kyoshi," Sokka told her.

"Then isn't it cruel to trick her like that? To make her accept a gift when she doesn't understand the magnitude of it?" Yue asked. Sokka frowned at this. He had not been expecting this sort of negative reaction.

Or perhaps he was naïve to have thought this, he realized, remembering whom he was showing the charm to. This was the girl he led astray in life, and taunted as a spirit. Why should she be supportive of his relationships?

"I don't think you understand, Yue. I feel like this is something I have to do. I don't want to miss my chance." He told her. He didn't add the thought _like I did with you. _"When she turns sixteen and the time is right, I'll tell her what it means, and if she wants to give it back, well, then she can." His voice rang with disappointment over this option. "But for the meantime, I just—I just need to feel like I've made some sort of promise to her."

"She's not even sixteen yet?" Yue asked in surprise. "Sokka, you can't rush a girl into these things! You men treat betrothal so frivolously, but you don't understand what it means to a girl! Her life hinges on that decision, her honor—" Yue stopped herself. This wasn't her life, and she had no business meddling in it. Her personal experience with these affairs far differed from the situation the boy was in. She had no right to speak out. Yue turned the stone over in her hands, considering it further. She let out a slow breath, and then handed the charm back to him.

"You still haven't answered my question, Sokka," she said plainly. "If you think that a betrothal necklace is a symbol of love in my eyes, then you certainly don't know me as well as you think. So tell me, do you love her?"

Sokka felt taken aback. The charm wasn't enough for her? How could it not show her everything he felt? True, she had not had a fulfilling experience with her own engagement, yet didn't she understand the true sanctity of what it stood for? He searched his head for words, and as he did so, Yue's mind went spinning. Suddenly, the enormity of this information crashed down upon her, and she felt desperately lost; like she had been cast aside. He was going to give a betrothal necklace to another girl. She had been completely forgotten, and that final scrap of hope she had been hanging onto was taken away. She recalled thinking fondly on him in life, wishing to the spirits that the betrothal necklace she wore had been from him rather than Han. She felt empty with this—perhaps he had never truly thought on her as she had on him? She had to know.

"Did you love me?" she asked quickly, and cringed as she regretted the question and the awkwardness it suddenly ensued. Sokka became tense beside her, and she bit her lip. She shook her head quickly, admonishing her words.

"I'm sorry," she covered over herself quickly. "That was out of line. I just—I--" she sighed, crestfallen. "Do you love _her_?"

Sokka sat for a long moment, distracted by the alternative question. Was she waiting for his reply to this, or did she want no more discussion on the topic?

He eventually decided to travel the safe route—the one that would only further sever their romantic connections of the past, rather than entice them.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I love her." Yue found herself analyzing his words and tone. While she had expected some sort of long-winded speech that alluded to the question, but did not answer it, this was not what she had received. His answer had been simple and short; it had been sincere. The word "her", seemed so emphasized, she wondered if he had been intending to hurt her with it.

Yet she had never pitied anyone so much as she pitied Sokka at that moment. He was in love with a girl condemned to death. What a dreadful existence. To some extent, she could relate to the feeling.

Perhaps she could help?

"Then you should leave," she told him. "It's not healthy for you to be here, and besides, I have business to attend to."

Sokka sat; confused that he was being ushered out so quickly after admitting something so sacred.

"I can promise it will be in your best interest for you to leave, Sokka." Yue told him. She seemed upset to him, and he suddenly felt terrible.

"But I don't under—" Sokka began. He had never meant to hurt her.

"Just go!" Yue told him. Sokka stood up quickly and shuffled towards the door.

"I—I'm sorry," he began to apologize as he opened the portal back into the center of the tribe, confused at his sudden dismissal.

He thought for a moment. There was something else that had to be said.

"I did--" he began, and stopped. "I do love you, Yue. I just—I know my priorities, and I know when I've lost."

Yue sat rigidly, her back to the boy. She had not expected this. Not in the least.

She wished he hadn't said it. It only made what she had to do so much more difficult, and cemented the fact that what she was going to do was right.

Yue pretended that what he had said hadn't affected her. "This isn't about you, Sokka. Now, please, just leave." She begged him.

He watched her for a moment, wondering if this was a final goodbye, then decided to do as he was told, and walked through the portal.

As the wooden door closed, Yue sighed and kneeled on the ground. Perhaps before she would have cried, but now she simply felt numb. She knew she had the power to change this—to help—though she wasn't entirely sure how it was done. It had happened to her, after all. As an infant in the grips of death, she had been saved by the moon spirit. Why couldn't the same generosity be extended towards this new girl?

Yet something inside her didn't find this wise. The voice of selfishness, dormant for so long, told her not to help this girl. Why give part of her life force to a girl she didn't even know—a girl who had stolen the boy she had cared for so long? And besides, what if they didn't stay together? What if the boy told her the meaning of the necklace, and she turned him down? Would that make Yue's effort for nothing?

Yue shook her head. These were wicked thoughts. No one deserved a fate like this so young. Yet still, she did not know how this was done. Perhaps, however, she knew someone who did.

-x-x-x-x-

Yue waded through water that came to her knees, warm and tenacious on her skin as she took cautious steps through the spirit world. Somehow, the realm was different from how it had been the last time she stepped foot in it. There was a sense of indescribable intensity in the air, as if something had changed—something was wrong.

It was profoundly curious, and terrifying. Spirit orbs clouded her head like moths to a lantern, begging her for something that she couldn't understand. She walked through them, pretending not to notice them or their unintelligible pleadings, only concentrating on her personal journey.

She passed thousands of trees on her way, tall and mighty, alive, all twisting together and confusing her. She stood in the midst of an open area of water, and considered her options of directions. She wondered which would take her to her destination, or if it even mattered. Perhaps here, no matter which way you went, you would find your target. She still didn't understand all the workings of this realm—it was entirely possible.

She pressed on, and as she predicted the trees began to thin with each step she took, and before long, they revealed to her the destination she had been seeking. She felt her soul shutter as she stood at the mouth of the cave.

"Beware", a voice from within growled. "You tread on dangerous ground." The voice sounded almost resentful as it spoke this statement—a new and enforced warning.

"Perhaps it's danger I seek?" Yue mused aloud in return, though her voice did not support the confidence of her words. She saw a soft stirring from within the depths of the shadows as the creature recognized her.

"Ah, my friend!" the voice smiled. "Welcome, La," it cooed. Yue did not move.

"That's not my name, Koh," she told him plainly.

"Isn't it?" Koh's voice asked her from within. "Surely it isn't merely my imagination that the moon spirit is named La. It has been this way for all time."

"My name is Yue," she told him firmly. The great spirit laughed.

"Still clinging to your mortality, I see," he noted. "When will you understand? Yue is dead." How he loved breaking her.

Yue was taken aback by this. After all, she was certainly alive. Did she not stand before him? She had never heard such a false statement.

"I--" she began to protest, then stopped, realizing what he meant. Yue, the mortal, was dead, and this was fact. Yue, the moon spirit however, was what stood before him now. He was weaning her away from her connection to her mortal self, including the name she had carried for sixteen years. He was, in his own twisted way, helping her. Defeated, she hung her head and agreed, "Yes."

"Then come in, La," Koh beckoned. "The spirit world is a dangerous place, and it is never proper to lurk in doorways."

Yue took in a deep breath, exhaled, and let all of her emotions flow out of her with that breath. When she felt thoroughly cleansed, she stepped into the darkness of Koh's cave. There was hollowness within the cave that had not existed before, though she could not visibly see the change.

"What's happened?" Yue asked him as she stepped inside. His long body, insect-like in nature, coiled around her. It was a loose circle, wide enough for her to take a few paces on either side, yet it still enclosed her, leaving her no position for escape. Only a proper farewell could warrant her exit.

"Why, I'm quite certain I don't know what you mean," he told her, not even attempting to hide this lie.

"There's something wrong here in the spirit world. I can feel it," Yue told him, keeping her head held high and her jaw set. Koh's legs rattled against each other ominously, scraping against the ground, as the coil that enclosed her became the slightest bit tighter.

"Ah, that," he said, circling her. The darkness cast shadows on the face he wore, making it impossible for her to make out exactly which mask he exhibited. His voice changed to one of mock remorse. "I've done something wicked, La," he confessed.

"What is it? What have you done?" Yue asked, nervousness spilling through her voice but not playing across her face. It would have been a lie to say she wasn't afraid of Koh—what he was capable of. The longer she stood before him, the more she thought better of it.

"I've stolen someone's face—someone who I shouldn't have." He alluded. Yue's heart raced. She didn't want to hear of Koh's exploits—in fact, she liked to pretend that he wasn't dangerous as everyone said, yet she knew this was truth, and she braced herself to hear of whatever horrible deed he had performed now.

"Who's?" Yue asked, as she knew it was expected of her. Koh stopped his coiling for a moment, and turned away from her.

"The Avatar's," he told her casually, not allowing her to see his face.

Yue's blood ran cold as she stood blankly before him. The Avatar? Was it Aang he spoke of? She stared off blankly in disbelief. What did this mean? Was the avatar dead? Useless? How was it even possible, and what did this mean for the state of the world? What did this mean for the boy? In answer to her unspoken questions, Koh turned his head towards her, showing her his face. Strangely, the face she saw was not of the young monk she had met that winter, but instead it was a man she had never truly seen before; one of the water tribe, with strong young features, who she distinctly recognized from paintings and statues as Avatar Kuruk. "Apparently, he's sacred and untouchable," Koh went on casually, as if discussing the weather, "The other Avatars are not happy with me. They want to punish me for what I've done."

Yue was stiff and unreadable as she asked, "Is that possible?" Koh smiled, pressing closer to her. His face changed to one of a beautiful water tribe woman. Yue sensed a connection between this face and the one before it.

"You of all people should know that a spirit can be killed," he smirked. His coil loosened, as he made a swift circle around her. "But I trust you haven't come here to inquire about my fate, La. What is it you seek? More help on recovering those illusive memories of yours?"

Koh's legs stopped scraping across the ground, and Yue felt his breath on the curve of her shoulder. He stroked her face with one of his legs, careful and imagining. The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

"N-no," Yue spoke unsurely. "I need you to teach me something." Koh frowned.

"You're wearing my generosity thin, my pet. I can't help you with all your problems, especially when I'm receiving so little in return," he told her slowly, softly. She considered this for a moment. He was making her choose what was most important, breaking her down and forcing her between the two deepest halves of human nature: the selfishness that every creature is born with, and the selflessness that can only be taught.

Yue looked at the decision she had to make. She had lost everything—her home, her people, her father, and now the boy. All she had left to make her feel human were her memories of them all and these were quickly slipping away as well. Koh was her only chance to preserve this; to keep the last bit of humanity she had left.

Yet, at the same time, he was her chance to help this girl, and consequently help Sokka. After the moment of blind, moral obligation, she began to think further on it. What did she owe this girl? She had never met her; never hurt her. Why should she give up everything for her?

For a moment, she thought it was for the boy. She wouldn't be giving up everything for this girl, but for Sokka. But what did she even owe him? Nothing. If anything, he owed her. After all, he was the one who had left her behind for another. He was the one who led her on to the point of heartbreak. He deserved none of her pity or charity.

She wanted to tell Koh to forget what she had said, to simply help her in her quest to keep her memories, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

The boy hadn't betrayed her, no matter how terribly she liked to think that he had, and she felt as if she held a duty to him, just like she had to her people in the water tribe. She had the ability to help this girl, so she believed that she should.

Yue ached as she made the decision, begging herself, for once, to let herself be selfish—to let her chase her own wants—but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"I don't need my memories, then. This…this is more important," she told him. Koh smiled, drinking in the emotion set just beneath her surface. He would break her today. He could just feel it.

"Yes, of course my dear," he hissed, "Then what is it you need me to teach you?"

"I need to know how to give some of my life force to a mortal." She told him without confidence.

Koh drew back his head with a look of surprise, "And why is it you need to know this?" His face changed to one of a small boy, no older than seven. It was disturbing to see him with a mere child's face.

"The boy I told you of—the one from the southern water tribe—I found out why he's here," Yue alluded softly.

"And why is that?" Koh asked, egging on whatever it was that was troubling this girl.

"There's a girl that's hurt—he brought her north for the healers, but he's still not sure if she'll live," She told him, sounding defeated.

"And they're together?" Koh resisted the urge to smile. It was too perfect—too easy! This girl was leading herself to her demise. Her composure couldn't last for long under this strain. He had her right where he wanted her. Koh's face changed to that of an owl's.

"Yes," she told him quietly. "I need you to teach me how to give her some of my life force."

Koh pretended to look surprised. "You want to save her?" he asked. "The girl who took the boy you love? How truly selfless of you, La!" Yue was silent, still cold with herself over her decision. "But, may I ask, how do you know this will last between them? After all, they are young! Young love very rarely lasts—you of all should know. If they were to part ways, would your stretch of generosity be wasted?" he asked, picking at her doubts, clawing painfully away at her surface until there was nothing left to cover her. She wasn't unaware of it. She knew he was breaking her down, and she became curt with him. It was working.

"Just teach me, Koh," she told him tensely, doing her best not to acknowledge his words. If she thought on what he said, she would surely break her composure.

"Why so sharp with me, La? Where are your manners?" Koh asked her, playing with her like a cat with a dead mouse in its claws.

"Stop calling me that!" she said, obvious agitation playing in her voice but not gracing her face. "My name is Yue!"

"You lost that name when you decided to take the moon spirit's place," Koh's voice raised. He did not like being contradicted. "The mortal, Yue, is dead! She is forgotten, and no more. You'd do well to remember that. Now, do you wish me to teach you or not?"

Yue was silent; put in her place. He took her silence as a yes, and leaned in closely to her ear.

His breath ticked her neck as he whispered the secrets of spiritual healing in her ear, and her heart became drenched in finality. When the secret had been told, he uncoiled his body from around her slightly, though he still restricted her from leaving. She was dazed and tired with the knowledge, merely staring off as she thought on what she had to do.

"Before you leave, I have a warning for you," Koh spoke, notes of cleverness slipping through his words. Yue turned slightly at this, and then Koh shook his head. "Oh, never mind—telling you would only tempt you," he said. Yue turned entirely now.

"Tell me, Koh," Yue asked, expectant and waiting; anxious. Koh sighed, as if he had just been broken down. How easily she fell into his trap!

"You should be careful when giving your spirit to this girl," he told her, "Be sure that you do not give her any more than half. If you do, then you'll induce a spirit transfer." He smiled as he told her. Yue narrowed her eyes.

"I don't understand," she questioned.

"It means that you will become mortal, and she will take your place as the moon spirit." He told her, a slight smile curving over his lips. His face changed to that of a spirit she had never seen before. The face was white as chalk, with strange red markings painted across its features.

Yue stood in silence for a moment, her head racing. Here, what she led was not a life—she was slowly losing her grip and her memories of everything she had held dear, while living in a place where not even her name was her own. She had dreamed for so long that things could simply go back to how they had been before. It was her one selfish longing and Koh was now offering a chance to get it all back.

Koh sensed the delicious distraught he had caused her, and devised a way to push it just a little further. She was strong, but the pressure was so nearly too great.

"Do you see now? I told you it would be too tempting," he said with mock remorse in his voice. "All you've wanted is now at your fingertips. It's been so hard for you to adapt to the ways of the spirits—and with this, you wouldn't have to…" then said, as if to himself, "Yes, far too tempting for a young woman to bear."

Yue's shoulders shook in the slightest. She wanted her memories back, her home, her name, the boy. And now all these things were being offered to her: She had a way out; she had a way home.

And yet, it was all so unreachable. Yes, she could have everything she wanted, but she could never take it. She couldn't condemn someone to this fate. She would never wish her existence on anyone, let alone a poor girl who had already been through enough pain to last a lifetime.

Her head reeled, as she weighed her wishes with their consequences until she could no longer take it. Tears pressed against her eyes. The two sides of human nature tore at her heart, until she fell to her knees.

She was about to cry. She couldn't stop it from coming, and with this realization she became filled with fear. If she cried in front of Koh, there would be no stopping him from taking her face. She looked around quickly, turning towards the mouth of the cave, but he still blocked her from it with the coil of his body. He was waiting for a polite good-bye. Without it, he would not let her go. Yet she couldn't speak without her face crumpling and turning into a pathetic sob.

The situation was futile, and she was not swift in an escape. As she cried before the great spirit, she felt claws rip at the corners of her jaw, tearing her away into darkness.

Koh was swift, adding one more face to his collection.

**(A/N:**

**"_Slow down you crazy child  
You're so ambitious for a juvenile  
But then if you're so smart,  
tell me why are you still so afraid?_**

**_Too bad that it's the life you lead  
You're so ahead that you forget what you need  
Though you can see when you're wrong  
you know you can't always see when you're right_."**

**From _Vienna_ by Billy Joel.**

**WOAH! Was that PLOT? :O Fun fact: "Yue and Koh" was this story's first title. hope you like the chapter! **

**And sorry about the tripple alert thing! the website messed up on posting this, so I deleted the chap and posted again, and it all just got out of hand! lol)**


	10. Hope and Selfishness

**Warrior's Heart  
****Chapter 10: Hope and selfishness**

It was striking, the difference between risking one's life and sacrificing one's life. As a warrior, Suki had risked her life daily without a thought, but as she considered the latter now, her heart filled with dread. Why should it be so different, she wondered? Why would one scare her so much more now? After a moment of thought, she came to see that it was hope that made the difference. When she laid her life out on the line for her island, her nation, the world, she was acknowledging the fact that she may not return, but still there was a strong hope—in some ways, a subconscious knowledge—that she would live to fight another battle. She could find pride in putting on her armor and preparing for battle—she was brave and strong, and doing her part in the war; what was there not to be prideful of? It was more than the majority of the population who sat comfortably in their homes, praying for an end to oppression. After all, she was _risking_ _her life_ for it.

But now she saw how foolish she had been. Yes, she had risked much, but until now what had she lost? Nothing in particular came to mind. She had been such an asinine girl, thinking herself even the slightest-bit special. She was now seeing the true meaning of suffering, and the true meaning of the way of the warrior. Her sisters had been taken from her, and from what she had been told, killed. She had been tortured to no fathomable end. Pain had been inflicted on her that she hadn't realized the human mind could capacitate. And still she saw that she should not think her case a special one. Many had experienced worse, she was sure, and many had lost far more.

But soon, she was also sure, she would join those ranks. She had made her decision—she could not postpone the Avatar's departure any longer. There was a war to be fought, and her insignificant life was putting it at a stand-still. She had become firm in this choice, and her heart froze-over with finality. In that moment, all hope vanished and she truly experienced the meaning of loss. In this she saw the difference between self-risk and self-sacrifice.

While she was firm and proud of her decision, she did her best not to think on it. There were too many technical matters to concern herself with to be distracted by trivial emotions. While she looked around for what her method of self-destruction would be, she noticed how ironic it was that in a place of healing there were so many opportunities for the deed that needed to be done. Scalpels, and other sharp objects were everywhere. They seemed to sparkle in the late afternoon sun, welcoming her to bend them to her will, and while these opportunities were perhaps more easily accessible than the others that she could think of, they didn't seem like the proper way to accomplish her goal. She told herself firmly that it was undignified and messy, but she knew this was only a cover of her fear of this fate. A belly wound would mean an almost certain death, but it also promised a lengthy and painful one. While she was determined to do whatever necessary, she could not deny that she was terrified not only of death itself, but of the process. She couldn't fathom willingly hurting herself—she would never be able to go through with it if she had to resort to these sorts of methods.

She was becoming increasingly picky about a situation who's method didn't matter—it had to be quick, and with no option for turning back. She could not allow herself to change her mind during the process, but the only plans that she could fathom would require the help of another person. It would be unknowing help, perhaps, but they would still be aiding her whether they supported her plight or not. Ahnah would be perfect for this role, she thought. The woman tried so hard to push her, that she would probably comply to any sort of physical exertion that Suki begged to attempt. And besides, Suki had the strangest feeling that Ahnah knew what she was planning and supported it; perhaps, in her own strange way, had even suggested it.

After hours of this sort of contemplation her mind grew weary, and she took to admiring the scene around her instead. Old women walked around with meaningful strides to do meaningless tasks. Some washed linens in a water basin, and others sat in the corner of the room, having no business to attend to and nowhere else to be. A second healing table had been propped up next to Suki either in the night while she was sleeping, or in the morning before she had woken, and it was covered in what appeared to be a large bundle of furs, and Suki noted how very warm it looked. At that moment, she wanted nothing more to crawl into the stack of furs, curl into a ball, and sleep for eternity. But she could not sleep, even in her own small bundle of furs, because of her frazzled nerves and the busy sounds of everyday water tribe life around her.

When the sun set the women conjugated for a moment, speaking in low voices and nodding in agreement, and then the women slowly started to disperse for their homes. Suki waited for Ahnah to come, having become used to this routine, but even when the final healer turned to leave, the old woman had still not come. The healer turned to Suki and gave her a warm smile, bidding her goodnight, then turned to leave, but Suki stopped her.

"Where's Ahnah?" Suki asked, and the woman turned back to face her. Her friendly smile had faded, and she now looked as if she had been caught in a secret she had promised to keep.

"Dear," she said softly, not stepping past the doorway. "I'm afraid to say that she's become one with the spirits," the woman said, her eyes pleading for forgiveness for bearing the news. At first Suki didn't understand, but then she saw the healer's eyes flick over to the pile of furs on the table next to her. As Suki looked at it, she began to see it take shape, the contours of the many blankets making a human form. Suki's body went stiff, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

'_One with the spirits', _she thought. What a nice way to say 'dead'.

"How?" she managed to choke out, and the healer watched her feet.

"She was a very old woman," the healer said, surprised at this question as if the answer were obvious, "It was simply her time".

It was a very plain answer for something so beyond the expanse of the human mind. Suki was quiet for a very long moment, at first out of respect and grief, and then with realization that her plans were ruined.

"Who will watch after me tonight?" Suki asked, as she tried to avoid the emotional reaction this information inflicted. No, it was the technical end she should concern herself with. She would let nothing stop her tonight.

"I'll be in the hut at the next door," the healer told her. "My daughter is ill, and I must stay with her tonight, but I'll be checking up on you throughout the night. I apologize to be taking away supervision so suddenly, but you've been fairly stable for some time now, and we've all come to agree that it's really not necessary for us to be watching you now. When Ahnah was here, she was more than happy to watch over you during the night, but all the rest of us—we have families—it's so hard and…and You shouldn't worry."

-x-x-x-

It was late into the night when Suki heard footsteps at the door of the healing hut, but assuming it was merely the healer come to check on her, she paid them no heed. She had long since buried herself under her covers, and run herself ragged all the course of the night searching for a plan, as hers had fallen through. With Ahnah gone, she no longer had an accomplice (she had done her best not to think of _why_ she was without an accomplice, though the cold stiff thing that lay just out of arms reach of her often found its way into her mind) and therefore had no way to accomplish the deed that needed to be done. Her options were now dwindling down again to the messy and improper. And to make matters worse, she had begun to put Sokka into consideration as she thought on all this. It was foolish to let the boy into her mind at a time like this, but she couldn't help but wonder what he would think, to find her bloody and departed. It would look so incredibly weak of her, being that she couldn't tell him her reasoning. It was shallow to think this, yet it was important to her. She didn't want the others to think that she had just given up—she hadn't. She didn't want her memory marked as a coward. It would have to seem like an accident.

She had become so consumed by her planning that she did not even stir as the footsteps approached her healing table. She merely lay curled up with her knees to her chest underneath the mountainous fur pile, pulling at her hair until her scalp became raw.

"Are you awake?" the intruder asked, and she barely heard them. Whoever it was, she was uninterested in what they had to say. No one was to disrupt her planning.

"Suki, are you alright?" the voice asked, and she moved slightly under the furs. Sokka. She cringed. Why had he come? He would ruin everything! With him there, she could get nothing done, and worse yet—he would probably change her mind. She couldn't let him stop her. Too much was at stake.

As he persisted to quietly call her name, however, her thoughts began to evolve. perhaps she could use him to her advantage? She had no other assets and she was sure she could take advantage of the boy while he was there. It was a horrible thing to think, but it was necessary. He would do as she asked, as long as he didn't know the end-result she planned.

"I'm Fine," replied Suki's muffled voice from underneath the furs. She inched her head out of the covers, peering up at him. Her plan began form in her mind as she spoke, and she smiled falsely at him, adding quickly, "never felt better." Sokka smiled at this, satisfied and too blind to see the horrible trick she was playing on him. He walked around to the other side of the table, and clambered onto it, lying next to her.

"You look better," he said, and it was true. A few of the burns on her face were fading into the fleshy pink wrinkles that would one day run all across her skin. It wasn't beautiful in the typical sense of the word, but to Sokka any improvement in her health was something to revel over.

"I went fishing today," he said when she did not reply.

"Did you?" she asked, though her mind was very distant, acknowledging that she would have to sit through a few minutes of this kind of talk before she could get to her own point.

"Yeah," Sokka replied. "Katara's orders". She had become so tired of his moping. "And I caught the biggest fish you've ever seen," he bragged, while in actuality, it had only been just big enough to not be tossed back.

"Bigger than the elephant koi?" Suki asked, her voice mockingly impressed.

"Y-well, no…but you know what I mean!" Sokka said, chuckling. He was so unaware. Some sadistic and twisted creature in Suki's heart laughed at this internally. Yet, the majority of her wept for the death of innocence, childhood, dreaming, and love.

"I'm sure that I don't," Suki said, pushing on his conversation. She turned her head in his direction, though her eyes seemed to search for something past him. Her mind ran quickly, ordering her mouth to do its bidding before allowing her heart to have any say in the matter. "Let's go for a walk."

"Suki," Sokka groaned, "Are you sure? I mean, I know last night was big, but a few steps isn't a walk. Why don't we stay in? We'll go walking some other time, when you're stronger and the healers can help."

"I'm plenty strong," Suki argued. The corner of Sokka's mouth twitched. He turned on his side to face her fully, and she continued to avoid his eyes.

"Just give it a few more days, at least," Sokka told her, as if his word were definitive. "for me". How clever he thought he was—playing dirty like this. Too bad he would not get the satisfaction of success. He moved to kiss her and seal his trick, but she turned away. Her raw and red cheek exposed itself to him in a way of dreadful defiance that would haunt him for a long time to come. He moved back coldly and looked down on her as if she were a stubborn child, rejecting his affections.

"I can manage, Sokka," she argued. Sokka's expression was hard, and he sat up on the healing table.

"Then stand up," he challenged her.

"Fine," she said, and reached for his arm for support. She would jump through his childish hoops. It made no difference to her.

"By yourself," he said cruelly, and saw her face fall. Her eyes were daggers as she retracted her hands from around his arm.

"Fine," she said once more. She pushed herself halfway into a sitting position with her good arm, and then thought better of it. As she began to roll on her side in an attempt at approaching this feat from another angle, Sokka stood up and walked to her side of the healing table. He hadn't expected her to even try it. They both knew she wouldn't be able to do it on her own. He desperately regretted his words, but he knew that even if he told her not to try, she would go ahead anyways. She was so proud.

"Suki…" he groaned in a way that begged her to stop and apologized for the suggestion.

"No!" she snapped, rolling onto her stomach. "I can do this." She snaked her legs over the edge of the table and momentarily considered her next move. Using all her strength, she lowered her feet to the ground while gradually pushing her body off the table. At a certain point, she felt her feet touch the ground and she smiled in victory. She planned for them to catch her as she released the side of the table, but instead her feet slid out from under her, making her fall to the ground with a quick and painful thud. It took all her strength not to yell out and attract the suspicions of the healer next door, and she cursed herself for her blunder. Standing up from here would be impossible, and she hit the ground hard with her fists out of frustration. She immediately regretted the self-battery. Sokka rushed forward to help her, but she swatted him away, angry with her failure.

"I can do this," she snarled once more, though they both knew she was lying. She pushed herself up with one arm and looked around, and then let herself fall back to the ground with silent resignation. When Sokka reached forward this time, she did not dismiss him. He helped her up and smiled pitifully down at her.

"Why do you want to get out of here so badly, anyways?" he asked. Suki was still for a moment wondering what would convince him, then looked up at the other healing table that she had at first thought was piled-high with furs. The boy followed her gaze and his smile disappeared. He had obviously heard the news, and he went slightly pale as he seemed to remember.

"I'm sorry," he said, and was quiet.

"She was old. It was her time," Suki replied bitterly, still doing her best not to truly think about it. But she began to wonder, would there be a ceremony to honor her? The woman had told her that she had been married, but her husband had died long before her, and that she had never been able to have children. Who would be there mourn her?

"What are Water Tribe funerals like?" Suki asked. When she asked it, she realized that it almost sounded as if she were asking about her own funeral. Sokka would not have no way of knowing of this hidden question, though. It was the woman's she was curious about.

"We celebrate death," he told her. "We have feasts and dances in the deceased's honor." He wondered if this would have the comforting effected that he had hoped for.

"Why?" Suki asked simply.

"because we believe that being reunited with our loved ones in the spirit world is something to celebrate." His voice was not celebratory in the least.

"Did you celebrate your mother?" Suki asked. The boy sat stiffly as she hit a chord with him.

"Technically," Sokka replied, his head hanging slightly now as he remembered. "There was food, and a big fire. People danced, but it wasn't like how the other funerals have been. It was sadder. I didn't dance. I didn't even eat."

"I'm sorry," Suki said honestly. Sokka shook his head.

"What if I carried you?" he asked, leaving his thoughts of funerals behind. He was Sympathizing with not only what he thought was her need to escape, but his own. Corpses could somehow inflicted a large amount unwarranted fear in a person.

Sokka's offer was reasonable—or at least a start—thought Suki, and she agreed. The boy rummaged through all the extra pieces of clothing in the hut, and fitted her with a warm coat, moccasins, and gloves. The sick creature in her heart laughed once more at his efforts. If only he knew what she was planning, and how useless all this was! He helped her dress, and then lifted her into his arms. She felt silly being carried like this, but it didn't matter in the scheme of things.

"Where do you want to go?" Sokka asked her at the doorway, and she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter," she told him, and he shrugged. He stepped out into the cold night air and shivered.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked her.

"I think you put enough furs on me to cause a mass extinction, Sokka. I'm sure I'll be fine." Suki joked without humor. He nodded and stepped further into the night. It was strangely dark—or at least more so than usual, he thought, though it was very possible that it was all in his head. It was just that the moonlight always seemed so much stronger, and tonight it seemed to have no brightness at all. He decided that there must have been a lot of cloud cover.

"You haven't gotten to see much of the North Pole, have you?" he realized as he walked.

"Not unless you count the inside of the healing hut to be the grand tour," Suki replied.

He led her through the streets, pointing out things of natural and man-made beauty alike, but she did not give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Her eyes were cold and observant, taking in all of her surroundings, but she did not display any of the pleasure that he thought she would about leaving the healing hut for the night.

He carried her out further and further, but his arms did not tire. She had become so light—such a ghost of the creature she had once been. How did she stand it, he wondered? He wasn't sure if he could be as strong as her, to suffer an ordeal such of this. He admired her bravery. They both knew her career as a warrior was over. No matter how often he tried to consol her, this was a strong fact in his mind that he knew she understood as well. How did she live, knowing she had nothing left to live for?

He was so consumed by pity for her. He would take her place to save her, but it simply could not be done. Life was so impossibly fickle.

When Suki started to shiver, he immediately suggested that they turn back. He didn't want to cause her any more discomfort, but she insisted that they move on.

"I'm fine," she had told him, staring blankly ahead of her. When she began to shake harder, Sokka became even more fervent in his suggestion that they return to the warmth and safety of the healing huts.

"No! I'm fine." She repeated, almost defensively. She tensed her muscles and contained her shaking to occasional and slight shudders. Then, in a sudden change of attitude, she looked up at him and offered an encouraging smile. Again, he was too dense to see its falsity.

"Why don't you let me walk for a bit?" she asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Suki" Sokka told her, though he didn't immediately know why he didn't approve. "The ice is slippery" was the excuse he came up with, though he knew there was some underlying danger that he was not thinking of.

He thought of the day on the Serpents Pass when Suki had told him not to worry so much, and it felt like it had been decades ago. She seemed to still expect him to uphold this promise, but how could he now? Things had undeniably changed. She was so capable and strong then, but what was she now? Strong willed perhaps, but not much else.

"_Please_, Sokka, let me stretch my legs," she begged him. Her voice was shaking terribly, as if she were about to cry, though he couldn't see why it was so important to her. How quickly her mood was changing—he could hardly understand it. And, oh, how he hated girl-tears! He knew nothing to make them stop. He would hold firm, though. Something told him to hold her tight. He felt bad spirits all around them.

"Do you love me?" she asked in a way that insinuated '_if you loved me, you'd let me walk'. _What a horrible card to play! Not only to make him say it to her in this way, but to give him no choice but to let her go.

He was as reluctant as if the spirits gripped at his arms themselves as he helped her to her feet. She was unsure with her own legs, and was dreadfully unstable, but managed to stand none the less. He steadied her with his hands on her waist.

"Let go," she told him. "How am I supposed to walk with you holding me like that?"

Her words were so sharp, but her voice was so unsure! He had never seen her like this. It was as if she were being pulled around by some invisible force that she was reluctant to follow.

He let go of her waist, but held her hand firmly. Where was this heading? She walked a few paces with him by her side. The walkway was narrow, but she minded the edge, and the cold water it held below.

Her steps became sure, though her breaths were not. After a moment, she whispered to the boy "Let me go."

"What?" he asked.

"Let go of my hand. I have to do this right. It will only be a moment." She said softly. The unsure breaths had stopped and her voice was so comforting and confident that it made him trust her fully. Despite the desperation of the air and sea which told him to retain his incredulity, he let her hand slide from his. She smiled sadly at him, then walked on. He watched her go, pace after pace, each one more sure than the last, and when she was just out of his reach, she miss stepped and fell into the canal.

Immediately, Sokka dived in after her and was shocked by the freezing water on his skin. His entire body seemed to stop working as he reached out in the black water. He choked on the water and felt every muscle in his body tense. Still, he reached out his hands desperately to catch her, and after a moment, he felt something brush his skin. He quickly grabbed at it and clasped the object firmly in his hand. His fingers were to numb to feel the texture, but it was his best chance, so with all the strength he could manage he propelled himself up through the water, gasping desperately when he reached the surface. He grabbed for the ledge, and pulled himself and the heavy mass he had found up with him. He coughed, water spilling from his lips, and looked down at the thing he had pulled from the water. He cried as he saw it was Suki, but no sound came forward. She didn't appear to move or breathe. Again, he cried out, and shook her to try to make her wake.

Sokka shook terribly, even violently perhaps, as he tried his best to yell for help. At first, no voice came to him, but then it slowly began to catch in his throat and make sound. He was so cold, he could hardly think. Instinct told him to take off his coats, so he did, pulling them off over his head and throwing them off to the side carelessly.

"Help!" he cried as he regained his voice. He pulled off the girl's coats, but she was stiff and unmoving. "Help! H--" he coughed and sputtered, "Help!".

She wasn't breathing. Not knowing what to do, he lifted her into his arms and began to run, screaming for help every time his breath allowed him. He nearly dropped her, he shook so violently.

"Please! Help!" he cried out as he ran. People began to step from their homes. One woman cried out and ran to him. He recognized her as one of the healers. The woman ran her hand urgently across the girl, then used bending to pull a long strain of water from Suki's mouth.

Suki coughed, then began to shake violently. The healer took the girl from Sokka's arms and ran to the healing hut.

Sokka trailed behind her, but the woman was bombarded with a horde of other healers. One came to him and looked him over once they had made their way into the huts.

"What did you do?" she asked angrily, and Sokka looked up, wide-eyed and shivering. "You've killed her!" she yelled. "Are you happy? She'll be dead by morning!" Then, seeing the boy's condition, she sighed and said, "You have to change out of those wet clothes." She grabbed his wrist gruffly and pulled him to the basket where they kept clean linens and clothes. There was no privacy for him as he changed into loose pants and an over shirt, and tossed his old clothes aside into a sopping pile. The woman threw him a towel. He had mild hypothermia, but his was an easily savable case. With some hot drink to brink up his temperature, he would be fine. She made him sit in an out-of-the-way corner of the healing hut and shoved a warm cup into his hands. Sokka didn't even bother to drink from it, and pestered her with questions about Suki, whom he could hear from the healing table. She was mumbling unintelligible things, asking where she was and what was going on while she shook horribly. Her voice was just barely audible over the voices of all the healers

The woman wouldn't respond to him. The immediate look of things told her, along with all the others, to blame him and it didn't take him long to agree that it was his fault however accidental it was. He took a sip from the cup, and the drink was sugary and familiar. It warmed all his insides, but his heart. He shook and rocked slightly in his seat, not knowing what to do or say. He was so helpless, and he couldn't stop thinking of what the healer had said: "_You've killed her_!"

Soon, Katara ran in, having heard the commotion. First, she went to the healers and tried to elbow her way in to ask what was going on and to see Suki, but they were so crammed around the table that she could not find an opening. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around desperately. Sokka caught her eye, and she went to him instead.

"What Happened?" she asked him while tears streamed down her cheeks. "She was getting so much better, and now everyone's acting like she's dying!"

Sokka shook with the most horrible feeling of guilt. He felt sick to his stomach, and his heart was filled with self-loathing. He didn't look up at his sister.

"She asked to go for a walk, so I took her, and she fell into the water," Sokka said, almost to himself. Katara cringed, analyzing the girl's condition in her head. Even if she hadn't been in the water long, her ruined skin would never be able to keep in her body heat. It didn't matter how much they fussed over her or how many different techniques they tried, she would only have a few more hours. Then she turned to Sokka, realizing exactly what he had done.

"You took her?" she exploded. "What were you thinking? How could you be so unbelievably stupid?"

"I--" Sokka pleaded, "You weren't there! She begged me! I never would have done it, but she was so desperate! She made me take her! She made me let her walk on her own!"

"I don't care, Sokka! You still let her go! She was confused, and she didn't know what was best for her—you should have been her voice of reason! And now she's as good as dead!" Katara yelled at him. A funny sound escaped Sokka at these words. He rocked ion his seat, shaking his head.

"I've killed her!" he said to himself, afraid of the words. His shoulders shook, and he pulled at his hair. He looked feebly up at his sister. "Again! I killed her! I just can't save them!" he yelled out through choking sobs. "I'm supposed to protect them, and I just can't do it! I'm a murderer, Katara!" Katara felt herself draw back at the sight of him as she got a good look at his face. Spirits, he looked dreadful with his sopping hair and tear-streaked face. But something inside of her would not let her feel any sympathy for him. She could only guess that it was the imminent death of a friend that made her so cold.

Sokka looked over to the door and saw Aang and Toph looking in. They had stayed outside to give the healers space in the impossibly crowded room, probably on Katara's orders, but they both stared so intently at him.

"It's because you have no common sense, Sokka!" Katara yelled. She was crying almost as hard as he was—far too hard to be sensitive. "If you just thought for one moment, we wouldn't be in this situation now! I can't believe you could be such an idiot! I just—I can't even talk about this!" She turned to leave, and Sokka grabbed Katara's wrist before she could go anywhere.

"Please!" he begged with her, a pathetic sobbing mess, "Please, Katara, you have to help me! You have to help me save her!"

"How?" she snapped. "If all those healers can't do anything, how can I? She's gone, Sokka!"

"N-no!" Sokka pleaded, "No! We could take her to Yue! Maybe Yue would--"

"Sokka, stop it!" Katara cried out so loudly that Sokka jumped. "I don't need to hear this right now! I can't believe you would be so selfish! Suki is _dying_, Sokka! She needs you right now, no matter how idiotic you are. The least you could do is to be by her side, rather than run off to your little world of make-believe."

"But if I could save her—" Sokka began.

"But you can't!" Katara cried, and fell to her knees, becoming eye-level with her brother. "Can't you see that there's nothing left to be done?" her voice softened as their eyes finally met. "Please, just stay. Please, just be here for her. She'd do that for you!"

"But what if I _can_ save her, Katara? Even if it's just a chance, I'm going to take it! _That's_ what she'd do for me," he told his sister and looked back at Suki. If he wanted Yue's help he'd have to take Suki to her, but it would be impossible to leave with her while she was surrounded by the mob of healers. He decided to go to Yue and beg for her aid, and if she agreed he would come back for Suki. The healers would have cleared out a little more by then, and he would be able to take her.

He forced himself to leave the healing huts, wanting badly to stay by Suki's side, and began his run to the spirit oasis.

* * *

**(A/N:**

**"_Without a life vest I'd be stuck again  
Wish I was much more masculine  
Maybe then I could learn to swim  
Like 'fourteen miles away'_**

**_I want to swim away but don't know how  
_****_Sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the Ocean_"  
****--"Into the Ocean" by Blue October. MAJOR lols for the cliché.**

**I didn't even bother to ask my beta about this, because I've gotten to that "let's just get this finished" sort of point, and I think so has he, so I flew solo on this chapter. If you'd like to beta any of the coming chapters, and think you can make quick work out of it (no more than a week) then send me a PM. I want to get this story finished for those of you who want to know how it ends. I know it's pretty much turned into a puddle of lame-sauce.**

**Anyways, Happy new years!)**


	11. Exchanges

**Warrior's Heart  
****By Sasha H.  
****Chapter 11: Exchanges**

Sokka mopped up his face with his palms as he ran. He was a pathetic mess, with eyes so blurry he could barely see where he was going, and numb feet that tripped over themselves again and again. A few curious souls, woken earlier by his desperate cries for help, watched him as he ran past, but Sokka hardly took notice. His mind focused on his mission, slipping occasionally into thoughts of self loathing, but he generally tried to avoid this mind-set. There would be plenty of time for it if he failed.

Sokka stumbled as he climbed through the Oasis's porthole and fell quickly to the ground. He laid there for a moment, his head throbbing where it had hit the ground, and thought of what a mess he must look. Tears burned paths down his cheeks, his hair was disheveled and wet, and he was surely covered in mud from his fall. He would never be able to forge a sense of collectedness now, so he would not even bother to try. He winced, pulling himself up to his feet and stumbling to the edge of the pond.

"Yue," his voice cried out, loud and piteous. The sound filled the oasis, reverberating off of every stone, but conjuring only a strong sense of loneliness when it left. He called her over and over, begging her to appear for him, yet nothing changed. He wondered if she were angry with him. Perhaps she had seen what had happened with Suki and hated him just as everyone else did? He wouldn't blame her.

Sokka wiped his blurry eyes with his sleeve and looked into the pond. At first he saw nothing at all inside it. It was stagnant, dark, and lonely, without any remnants of the spirits that once resided in it. Confused, Sokka blinked his eyes in an attempt to clear them. He leaned into the pond, looking closely, and spotted a small spot as bright as moonlight circling its center. It was the ocean spirit making a lonely passage around an almost invisible reflection of the moon on the pond's surface, but the moon spirit itself was not to be seen. Sokka searched all around the pond, but it was many minutes before he spotted it: a pale, ashy grey form, swimming around its rim. The faded spirit felt its way miserably around the pond, bumping into stones and tangles of water lilies in its path as if it were blind and dying.

"Yue?" Sokka asked the fish cautiously, not even sure that this was the girl he knew. It was strange talking to the creature as if it were a human being, though it seemed that all of his predicaments lately had been decidedly strange. "Are you alright?" he asked when he got no reply. The fish persisted to swim as if it had heard nothing. It merely continued to scrape itself pathetically against the edge of the pond. Sokka watched its self battery for a only moment before he became overcome by sympathy. Although he had been reprimanded by Yue for touching the spirit water, he decided to guide the fish back to its partner at the center of the pond. His fingers trembled as he reached for her, but their shaking was quieted when he reached into the water.

Sokka closed his eyes as his hands gripped the carp as if expecting to be struck down immediately for interfering with the spirits one more, but, to his relief, nothing happened. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, but when he looked down at his hands they were surprisingly empty. Sokka jumped back, searching frantically through the water to see where the fish had gone when he realized he was not even in the oasis anymore, though he did recognize the place he stood now. Warm water rose to his knees, licking at his skin as it moved slowly through him. Trees loomed all around him, some taking root in midair, imprisoning him with their long, lifeless fingers while spirit orbs circled around him, as small as moths and bright as the moon itself.

The spirit world. He must be dead, he thought. Why else would he be there? He had interrupted whatever sacred ritual the fish might have been performing, and was killed by the spirits on the spot. Sokka stood up, cursing loudly enough to scare the spirit orbs. They fluttered quickly away, but took only a few moments to come inching back, curious about this stranger.

Sokka looked down at himself. It was funny, he thought. Being dead didn't feel nearly as different from being alive as he had imagined. He touched his face and decided that he felt quite solid. Perhaps he was alive after all? Surely he wouldn't be the first mortal to venture into the spirit world. He'd done it before when Hai-Bai had stolen him away, and once more when Yue had touched him.

Sokka decided that if he was still alive, only Yue would be capable of sending him back. Unfortunately, he had no idea of how to find her. She was nowhere to be seen, and he could only assume that the Spirit World was a very big place.

Sokka looked this way and that, and watched the spirit orbs in curiosity. He wondered what they were. His scientific mind tried to guess what kind of elements they could be composed of to make that sort of a glow, but the smaller, spiritual creature that hid within him wondered if they were the souls of the dead from the mortal world. The spirit orbs came very close to him, but never close enough to touch. It was as if they were afraid of him, yet just as curious as Sokka was when it came to the other's existence. One ventured further than the others, brushing against his arm. Sokka held out his hand to the creature and it landed on him. The entity was surprisingly cold and its touch made him shiver. Frightened by Sokka's shaking, the creature flew off into the distance. Not a moment later, it came back to him, waiting expectantly only inches from his nose. It ventured further and further forward him as if waiting for something, then moved quickly ahead as Sokka stepped towards it.

The orb flew quickly, and Sokka nearly had to sprint to match its pace. When it stopped, Sokka all but tripped over himself to keep from passing it. He looked around, searching for the importance of the space the creature had taken him to, when he spotted a small figure sitting on a large rock not far off from where he stood. Sokka instantly recognized the silver hair and slender frame. He turned to thank the spirit orb, but when he looked for it, it had already gone.

Sokka rushed to Yue, but as he got nearer he noticed that her shoulders were shaking terribly. From behind, it looked like she was crying, but she didn't make a sound. Sokka walked around the large rock she sat on, but her face was covered by her arms, and she didn't seem to notice him. He reached up to put a hand on her shoulder, but she immediately squirmed out of his grip, surprised by his touch.

"Yue, are you alright?" he asked her, but she did not make a sound. Again, he reached out to her, but when his fingers met her skin, she lashed out, striking him surprisingly hard across the face with the back of her hand. Sokka yelled out in shock and cradled his burning cheek.

"Yue!" his voice was hurt and betrayed, "It's me, Yue! It's Sokka!" He reached for her tremulous hands, still blocking his view of her face, but when he began to pull them away she threw her arms out in all directions. Her elbow hit him hard in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, and she slipped off the rock. She fell hard and fast to the ground that lay beneath the orange, murky water. After she recovered from the initial fright of her fall, she didn't bother to pick herself up. She merely curled her legs up to her chest , making herself as insignificant as possible.

Sokka gasped, desperately trying to re-fill his lungs and widely eyeing what Yue's hands were doing a poor job of hiding. Behind her shaking fingers hid the clear, flat expanse of skin that should have held eyes, lips, ears, and nose. Sokka scrambled backwards, his heart washed over with fear and sympathy, though somehow not feeling the surprise that perhaps he should have. As terrible as it felt to admit it to himself, he had been dreading this ever since Yue's confession that she was seeking consult in Koh. Still, he was wary to comfort her. He rubbed his cheek, wondering why she had hit him when he had only wanted to help. He reached out to help her up, but before his hand met her, someone else had pushed it away and pinned him to rock Yue had been sitting on.

"What are you thinking?" asked this newcomer darkly. Long black hair fell over eyes that didn't appear to be much older than Sokka's. "Are you trying to scare her to death?"

"Wha--?" Sokka began, surprised by the sudden presence of this stranger.

"_she can't see or hear you_," to boy hissed. "How would she know who you are? She probably thinks you're some demon! Can you not see that she's terrified?" Sokka looked over to Yue once more, and was filled with guilt. Why did it seem that every time he tried to help, it only ruined things?

"You shouldn't be here" this stranger told him and his grip on the boys collar tightened.

" Please!" Sokka replied, squirming from the boy's grip. "I'm just here to help!"

"I think we've had enough of your help," he snapped, looking back at Yue who still cowered and hid her blank face. Sokka followed his gaze, then looked back at the boy, wide-eyed and defensive.

"You think this is my fault?" Sokka asked. "I swear, I had nothing to do with this! I even told her not to speak to Koh!" The boy hit Sokka, and his head slammed back into the rock behind him.

"Not your fault?" he raged, "She went to him because of _you_! To help _you_!"

"No! She went to get her memories back! She told me so!" Sokka argued pathetically, sliding out of the older boy's grasp in an attempt to save his already bloody nose, but the boy again grabbed his collar and pinned him against the large rock. Why did this stranger even seem to know who he was?

"I've sat passively for longer than a pathetic creature like you could ever understand, waiting for her to give up on mortals and just be content with what she has, and you dare to question me?" His grip tightened even further. "She went to help you! And _that_ girl! " The boy tore at his hair in frustration at the thought of it. "How dare you even come here? Haven't you already hurt her enough? Or will you be happier when she's dead?" the boy asked. Sokka said nothing, thinking of how nothing seemed to be going right. He was killing everything that he wanted to protect. "Well? Will you?" the boy demanded, his hand nearly choking Sokka.

"Please!" Sokka begged, not even bothering to fight back. It was obvious that he had lost this fight the moment he had been ambushed. "Please! I only want to help! I'll talk to Koh! I'll do anything! I want to save her as much as you do!"

"Fine then," the boy said tightly and dropped Sokka to the ground, "Go. Bring her back if you think you're any kind of match against the face-stealer when you couldn't even fight me. But I warn you: if she does not come back, then neither should you." The boy turned to Yue and kneeled beside her. When he touched her skin, she did not bat him away, but welcomed him. For a moment, Sokka forgot his urgency, staring curiously at the two. Yue had buried herself in the boy's chest, and he cradled her. His faces was strangely smug and content, as if he had just taught a pet a trick after years of training, and Sokka could tell that it was purely for his own benefit, but through this contemptible expression he saw the genuine care in which this newcomer held the girl.

Sokka turned away, suddenly feeling like he was intruding upon something sacred. Unsure of what direction to go, he wandered into the nearest thicket of trees. Through his many travels he had learned that no matter where you intended to go, taking the path was the long way to get there, but somehow the further he walked into this forest, the more he began to see the flaws in his theory. Branches and brambles tore at his clothes and scraped his skin uncomfortably. When a branch caught so fiercely to his shirt that it would not come loose, he turned, and jumped when he saw two large eyes staring into his.

"Come, child. You haven't much time," a young woman whispered into his ear. She took his hand and began to pull him away. At first he stood stationary, but then saw that he had no other options and nowhere else to go, he abandoned his stubbornness and followed her. This world was such a strange place full of curious characters and little introduction. He somehow found himself accepting that he had no control over what happened to him there—he would have to depend on the spirits to guide him. His eyes, which had been watching the woman intently, glanced away as to not appear to be staring. She was beautiful, perhaps in her early twenties, with dark hair that hung long down her back.

She smiled with friendly blue eyes, encouraging him onwards. "You came just in time," she said. "You know what to do, I trust?"

"I don't—" Sokka began, not sure who this woman was or what she was expecting him to know and do. "Do you know where Koh is?"

"I'll take you to him," she said. She still held his hand tightly as if she were afraid he would run away. "You're very brave to come here, you know."

Sokka didn't reply, absently wiping blood away from beneath his nose with the back of his hand. He looked down at it and frowned, embarrassed by his quick defeat in front of Yue, whether she knew it happened or not.

The woman smiled in motherly way.

"He's quite the aggressive one, isn't he?" she asked with a slight laugh In her voice.

"Who?" Sokka asked.

"Tui," she replied, "the Ocean Spirit." When he still looked confused she added, "the one that hit you."

"You saw that?" Sokka asked, his cheeks reddening with even further embarrassment.

"Of course", she told him, "I've been watching you since you got here." She then continued with, "he's rather upset with you."

"Yeah, I figured that out pretty quick," Sokka retorted. "But why? Does he really think that what happened to Yue is my fault?"

"It doesn't matter if it is. You're the first mortal paramour of the moon spirit that he's been able to get his hands on. She's had quite a few, you know."

"Yue has?" Sokka asked, confused. Perhaps it was wrong to feel betrayed considering the circumstances, but _many_?

"Not Yue herself I suppose, but the Moon Spirit as a whole. Haven't you ever wondered why the Moon Spirit would give its life force to the princess in the first place? A relation with Chief Arnook might have inspired that act of generosity." The woman said, and it was a genuinely intriguing thought. "Tui doesn't seem to be capable of distinguishing the spirit he knew and the one before him now, however. Who knows—perhaps they're one in the same? You're certainly proof that her old ways haven't changed. But it doesn't matter. He'd be eternally jealous either way. He seems to believe that the Moon and Ocean Spirits were created as a pair, and resents her constant betrayal."

"But I thought the moon and Ocean were supposed to be brother and sister with each other. That's what the stories always said!" Sokka protested.

"Well, it seems that Tui has yet to hear those fables," the woman said. She stopped walking and looked up at him seriously. "We're here," she told him.

Sokka looked up at the place she had taken him to. It was a large cave formed by the knucker hole of a tree, inside which lay a realm of darkness and uncertainty. "Good luck, Sokka!" the woman called.

"Wait!" Sokka said, "How do you know my name?" The woman laughed, and her voice was sweet and sincere.

"I thought you were my friend!" she said with a knowing smile. "Have you forgotten me so soon after my death?" Sokka narrowed his eyes and stared at the woman, trying to connect the young woman with who he could only assume she truly was.

"Ahnah?" Sokka asked incredulously. The woman smiled and fished in the pocket of her dress.

"You may need this," she said, pulling out a sturdy knife made whale tooth. "Mortal weapons aren't much use against a spirit, but it's best that you don't enter completely unarmed." She handed the knife to Sokka and he considered it as he rolled it in his hands.

"Thank you," he said earnestly and she began to walk away from him.

"I wish you the best of luck," she replied, "And if things turn out the way I hope they will, I trust that you'll give Suki my love"

Sokka turned back to his final destination, quieting his features and concealing his knife in his boot.

It wasn't until he looked into the empty depths of the cave that he realized how truly afraid he was. His fingers trembled, as he realized that, if a knife would have no use against Koh, he had nothing to fight with. As he stood there, he began to reconsider. What good would it do if he lost his face? Suki would not be saved, nor would Yue. He would just be one more person that could be marked as dead to the rest of the world. The more he thought this, the colder the entrance of the cave seemed. He had almost decided to turn back when a voice spoke to him from within.

"I've been expecting you," the velvet voice slunk around the rim of the cave and crawled into his ears, drawing him in. "Come in, come in!" Sokka stood, hesitantly rocking on his feet, but the voice was so very inviting. He found himself following it as the murmur disappeared back into the cave.

"You've been expecting me?" Sokka asked, following the voice dazedly. His feet felt so heavy on the ground.

"I've heard quite a bit about you, you know," the great creature smiled as the boy came to face him. "I'm quite certain that I even know your name. It's Sokka, isn't it?"

"How'd you know that?" Sokka asked in return. His voice was sleepy and light. The spirit laughed, coiling around the entranced boy.

"Isn't it quite obvious?" he asked. "La told me. She speaks fondly of you, you know."

"La?" Sokka asked. His mind was slurring. Why had he come here? He couldn't quite recall…

"Oh, I quite forgot!" Koh replied. "I'm sure you still know her as Yue. She did have quite the obsession with retaining her more mortal aspects." At Yue's name, the Sokka shook off a bit of the great creature's spell.

"That's what I've come to talk about," Sokka told the great spirit.

"Of course, of course!" Koh replied. "She really is a lovely girl, you know."

"I know," Sokka replied darkly.

"And she was so intent on helping you, too! Even after you broke her heart the way you did." Koh mentioned off-handedly. Sokka did not reply.

"In fact, it nearly broke _my_ heart to see her in such a state--So completely devastated at the betrayal, yet so determined to help that other girl of yours." Koh hissed sympathetically.

"I didn't come to hear this, Koh," Sokka said, trying to stop Koh from going any further with his story. Sokka did not want to hear it.

"No, of course not." Koh hissed, "You came to slay me." Sokka's fingers twitched, wondering if this was the proper moment to pull the knife from his boot. The spirit, however, continued to speak. "But I was telling a story, and I'd greatly appreciate if you didn't interrupt."

"As I was saying, it was quite sad. She had been so intent on getting her memories back—I told her I could help her do that. But would you like to know a secret?" the creature paused, but did not give Sokka enough time to respond. "The secret is, I couldn't help her at all. There's no way for a mortal to keep their memories upon their ascension to the spirit world." He laughed a bit to himself. "In all honesty, she would eventually forget she ever even was mortal. She would believe that she had always been the moon spirit. She would become corrupted just like all the rest. There was nothing I could have done to prevent that."

"But, of course, she didn't know that. She was convinced that I could save her from that fate, but after she learned of your betrayal, she became inexplicably intent on giving that girl part of her life force to save her, even though I told her that I would not be able to teach her to keep her memories if I told her how to share a life force. But, strangely enough, she chose to help you rather than herself!" Sokka worked very hard to conceal his look of surprise. Yue had been ready sacrifice so much just for him--for Suki, whom she had never even met. "I can't imagine why," Koh commented.

"But I told her another secret. One I wouldn't tell anyone else—but you of course. You see, I taught her how to induce a spirit transfer. You know what that is, don't you?" Koh asked Sokka, but he was firm in his resolution to say nothing that might egg the spirit on. "It means," hissed koh, "that when she goes to give part of her life force to the girl, she instead switches places with her. This way Yue would become mortal, and your little warrior would become the moon spirit! She rather seemed to like this plan. I'm quite certain she was even strongly considering it. But then the strain just became too much. she began to cry, and, well I'm sure you've already seen my handy-work," Koh's face changed to one Sokka knew very well. Blue eyes stared into Sokka's own, and silver hair licked at his skin. But this expression was full of malice, in striking comparison to the innocent girl he knew.

But if what Koh said was true, how innocent could she be? Sokka looked away from Koh, but the creature's coil merely tightened around him until he had no choice but to look the creature full in the face.

"I'm sure this is tough for you. Knowing you can't have either of them. Yue's mine now, and Suki's not fairing well at all. In fact, you're practically too late."

"What?" Sokka asked defensively. "What do you mean? And how do you know her name?"

The great spirit just smiled his cunning smile using Yue's lips.

"I see everything in the mortal world, boy. Everything I want to see, at least. And Suki's not looking good. Not good at all."

"Stop it," Sokka ordered. He felt sick.

"She doesn't even know where she is anymore," Koh continued casually. "I'm quite certain she doesn't even know her name. Amnesia can be a symptom of hypothermia, you know. All she knows is that she's in a great deal of pain, and that no one is there to comfort her."

With this, Sokka pulled the knife from his boot and lashed out spirit, a loud war cry ushering from his throat. Instantaneously, Koh sprung as well. One insect-like leg immobilized the hand that held the dagger, while two others dug into the skin at Sokka's jaw. Sokka cried out as the claws bore into his cheeks, and his face was pulled away from him, his vision blurred and then went into darkness. The spirit slowed the process, enjoying his work.

"You thought you could outwit me?" Koh asked, laughing, "That _you_ could slay me when thousands of men before you were unsuccessful? I should warn you that bravery and ignorance are not a good pair—not that either of them will be of any use to you in a moment,"

Sokka was a goner. He knew it. Koh's claws had almost reached the tip of his nose when a great force threw him backwards. Sokka's back collided with cave wall, knocking all breath from his lungs.

"Stop this, Koh," a voice said sternly. Sokka reached blindly for his face and was relieved to find it was still there, at least for now. Sokka's vision returned to him slowly, transfiguring the world into one blurry and continuous mass. He searched for the source of the voice; his savior.

When he saw it, his eyes widened with fear. As the world began to take on definite shapes, he could just barely make out the figure of a woman in long green robes and a ghost-white face.

"Suki?" he asked, feeling sick to his stomach. What was she doing in the spirit world? "Suki, are you…are you--" he couldn't manage to finish the sentence. No, she couldn't be here. He refused to believe she could be.

"I'm not Suki, child," the voice said, and Sokka's vision began to return to him, he could tell she spoke the truth. Her costume was almost identical to Suki's, yet her face was much older and her hair far longer. Who was this imposter? The woman turned to koh.

"If you steal this boy's face, I'll kill you myself, Koh. Don't think that I couldn't." the woman told him. The spirit laughed.

"That's what Avatar Kuruk said, my dear Kyoshi." Koh's face quickly changed to the face of the fallen Avatar.

"I'm well aware of that," she said, "but you know that you would be no match against a band of us, don't you? And you're already in so much trouble as we speak Koh, do you think it would be wise to go against my request?" Koh seemed to consider this.

"Were you not planning to kill me already? What would it matter who's face I steal now?" Koh asked smugly.

"You're right," Kyoshi said, seemingly unfazed, "But what if a deal could be made? One that could clear up this entire mess? One that could work in all of our favors?"

Koh considered this for a moment.

"You mean take the boys face in exchange for Kuruk and La?" he laughed. "So you're saying, the face of an ugly peasant boy in exchange for a powerful Avatar and the moon spirit. As if his face is even worth even a quarter of either them, let alone both!"

Sokka wondered if he should feel insulted by this, or afraid that this avatar seemed to be bargaining _with_ his life, and not necessarily for it.

"No, of course not," the avatar said. "I'm sure there's something far more valuable that you could take from him that would be worth both the faces you've stolen."

"And what would that be, my dear?" Koh asked, incredulous. "I highly doubt that there's anything he could give me that would be of consequence."

"His life force," she told him flatly. "Wouldn't the life force of a mortal be worth so much more than a couple of faces? Just think, it will keep you safe from any attempts on your life. You'd be absolutely invincible. But unlike faces, that can only be given to you willingly. Where else are you going to find a mortal willing to trade with you?"

"Who said he is willing?" Koh asked after considering this offer. He looked over at Sokka expectantly. Sokka looked to Kyoshi, his eyes wide and afraid. She kneeled in front of him and took his hand.

"What are you getting me into?" Sokka asked. His heart began to pound furiously as he began to understand that, no matter what, he was not getting out of the cave unscathed. He felt ashamed to be a warrior and yet so afraid.

"If I told you that you could save both La and Suki if you did this, would you do it, despite what the consequences might be?" she asked him. Sokka wondered what this meant. Would this kill him? Would he become a soul-less shell? Neither of these options were particularly pleasant, but neither was the end of both Suki and Yue. And besides, Yue had give her life to save his and so many others. Perhaps it was his turn? His duty?

Sokka nodded cautiously. He had no choice, and he tried to feel confidence in his decision.

"He'll do it Koh," she told him. She helped Sokka to his feet, her eyes apologetic. Sokka's knees shook terribly as he stood before the great spirit, waiting for an unsure fate, but he did not run.

"Very well," the spirit smiled, curling around Sokka. He put one long claw on the boy's forehead, and the other on the boy's chest. Sokka closed his eyes as he felt a strange sensation pull him toward the spirit. He grew weak, he felt sick, hollow. When the feeling stopped, Sokka fell to his knees. He felt light-headed and tired. He wanted desperately to sleep. For days or months, even eternity perhaps.

"The faces you requested have returned to their original owners," Koh told him. While he had just lost perhaps two of his greatest prizes, he looked smug.

Kyoshi helped Sokka to his feet. When he could not stand, she wrapped his arm over her shoulder and half-carried half-dragged him away.

"Thank you Koh," she said, her voice solemn but unmistakably satisfied with the deal as well, and led Sokka out of the cave. Once out of Koh's clutches she helped the boy find a seat on a nearby tree-root.

"W-what happened to me?" Sokka asked with his head in his hands, hardly able to hold it up with his neck alone.

"Koh took some of your life force," she told him. "Not all of it, but a fair amount none-the less."

"Am I d-dead?" Sokka asked. He felt so weak and useless.

"No," Kyoshi said, then considered her next words carefully. "But your life has been shortened severely."

"By how much?" Sokka asked.

"Twenty years? Forty years perhaps? It all depends on how much Koh took, he could have taken as much as half of your life. But you have no time to lament over that when there is still much to be attended to" she told him.

But this didn't stop Sokka's head from reeling. Half of his life? What if he were only going to live to be thirty? He could be dead tomorrow. Sokka tried to push the thought from his mind. He was alive at the moment, and that's what mattered.

"Here, eat this," she reached into a satchel at her side and pulled out a strange root. "It will give you your strength back."

Sokka took the root, and after considering it for a moment, he bit into it. It was bitter but edible

"Why did you help me?" Sokka asked as his body began to pulsate. He wondered if 'help' was the right term. He felt resentment towards the woman, even though she had undeniably saved him.

"Because one of my daughters is in trouble and I know that you are the only one that can save her." And suddenly the woman's eyes were pleading. "You will help her, won't you?"

It was so strange, thought Sokka, that this woman, this Avatar, who had possessed more power than he would ever know—who was now an even more powerful spirit—would depend on him for anything, as she seemed to do now. She looked so positively desperate, as if Suki was her legitimate child, and not just her figurative one.

"That'll be up to Yue," Sokka told her, "And…I really don't know what she'll choose to do." Sokka's light-headedness was starting to subside and he stood up. Kyoshi's eyes returned to calm as she followed him. "I wouldn't blame her if she decides not to help. I barely even think it's right to ask her…but all the same, I should make sure she's alright."

"Can You point me to her?" Sokka asked as he looked around and realized that he was lost. Kyoshi nodded and pointed straight ahead of her. Sokka couldn't help but wonder how she knew without being in sight range.

"Good luck," she said. Sokka thanked her and went on his way. He concentrated hard on the direction in which Kyoshi had pointed. He couldn't afford to lose his way, and the slightest diversion could spell disaster, but soon enough he saw once more a small figure perched on a rock in the distance. Tui stood on the ground beneath her, and was first to acknowledge Sokka. He said nothing, only watching the boy as he approached.

Yue followed to boy's gaze, and Sokka smiled when she turned to look at him. She smiled widely in return and slid off the rock she had been sitting on. She waited for him, standing in the murky water, trying to retain a sense of collectedness as he approached, but when he stopped to stand before her, this regal outer wall crumbled, and she threw her arms around him. She cried into his shoulder and thanked him again and again.

"So, so dark," she said quietly, still buried into his chest. Sokka embraced her, his arms gentle around her back. She didn't seem to be conscious of her earlier attacks, and he decided not to mention them to her. He looked over her shoulder at Tui. The boy was expressionless, obviously jealous of Sokka, but knowing it would be uncalled for to be angry, being that Sokka had kept his word to save Yue.

"You're alright now?" Sokka asked her. Somehow he felt cold towards her. He could not hold her as he once did, or feel the same kind of warmth inside him as he had she was near. Koh's words were ringing through his head. He had offered her a way to switch places with Suki, and she had nearly resolved to do it. '_this world would corrupt her'_

"Yes, I'm fine." She told him quickly, thanking him more with every breath. When she felt how stiff and lifeless the arms around her were, she quieted. "Sokka," she asked softly so that Tui would not hear her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Sokka replied absently.

"were you hurt? How did you do it?" she questioned, "Is Koh dead?"

"It doesn't matter," Sokka said stiffly. She didn't need to know. Yue looked up at him with incredulous eyes. She reached out and ran her fingers over his cheek fixedly and Sokka's brow furrowed. He reached up and touched the place where her fingers had been and felt a long scar sliding from his ear to midway down his cheek that had not been there before. When he raised his other hand, he found that a second scar etched its way symmetrically over his opposite cheek.

He said nothing about it, and Yue asked no further questions. She understood, albeit only slightly, what had taken place. She did not know of his sacrifice, but she could plainly see what else had very nearly been lost. She cupped his face in her hands, bending it towards hers, then stopped herself. She had remembered how complicated it all was, why she had lost her face in the first place, and why the boy had saved her. It was that warrior girl who hindered it all. Yue dropped her hands dejectedly and stepped slightly away from him. Obviously, holding him so tightly was no longer appropriate.

She felt so tired and defeated. She did her best to smile for him, but the corners of her mouth suddenly felt so weighted. How she wished it wasn't all so restricted! How she wished he had risked his life for _her_, and not because he had wanted something from her.

It was sad, thinking that without the things she could give him, she would not have been saved. In fact, if she had nothing to give, she wouldn't have even been in the predicament to begin with. She wondered if he cared, or if he was being so cold to her because she didn't matter to him anymore. At least not in the way she had once mattered so greatly.

Then her mind slipped into darker matters. What if she _did_ take the girl's place? They were such evil thoughts, but the overwhelming feeling of abandonment that welled inside her pushed it towards the surface of her mind. She could tell Sokka that the only way to save Suki would be to switch places with her. Then he would be with her always; no distractions or entanglements. It was such a kind, idealistic thought. She could not manage to believe it would turn out so well in the end, but her heart harbored an overwhelming hope.

She sighed deeply and took the boy's hand.

"Bring her to the Oasis," she told him

* * *

_**"Fools in love  
Are there any creatures more Pathetic?  
Fools in love  
Never knowing when they've lost the game.  
Fools in love  
Gently Hold eachother's hands forever  
Fools in love  
Gently tear eachother limb from limb"  
--"Fools in love" by Inara George**_

**Silliness. I always think that the spirit world would be a very illogical place that mortals can only be lead through—they can't find their way themselves. I think of it sort of like wonderland, where it's full of strange coincidences and connections, where not everything as it seems. A dark place.**

**Very nearly done! One or two more chapters. I can't apologize enough for how long this has taken.**


	12. The Deal

**Warrior's Heart**

**By Sasha H.**

**Chapter 12: The Deal**

Katara sat, playing with her trembling hands and watching the sky through the windows of the healing hut. It should have been morning, she thought. They had been sitting for what seemed like hours and yet the moon still clung desperately to the sky, giving an illusion of false time but offering no true feelings of security. Within the hour that Sokka had been gone the small space had purged itself of all but two healers, the majority of them returning to their homes as they came to see the situation as futile, leaving the unlucky remainders with the task of supervising the girl's untimely end. The couple sat with silent respect by the healing table while Katara watched them from the other side of the room.

The women wore callused frowns, so used to the loss of the young in this unforgiving environment that the girl before them became nothing more than a small check in a wide count of disappointments. Katara could sense their detachment from the creature before them and it made her sick. These were the two most unskilled healers in the tribe. From the day they had arrived, she had seen them do nothing but menial tasks, and yet they were the ones assigned to watch over Suki as she died? Perhaps in a more rational state of mind, Katara could have seen the logic behind this. After all, Suki's was a lost cause; it mattered not who watched over her now, for her fate could not be changed, and These women were there purely for supervision—with enough knowledge to handle any fresh emergencies that should arise, and no families at home to tend to, they were the natural choice to stay. However, Katara could not bring herself to be sensible and she found herself blaming them for the tears welling up in her eyes. She glanced quickly over at the two beside her and their eyes betrayed their mirrored emotions. Aang, allowed in to the hut only because of outstanding circumstances, had been watching Katara curiously and turned quickly away as she caught his gaze. Toph sat very much to herself, caught up in her own personal musings that Katara could not even begin to guess.

She felt individual fingers fumble over her own, seeking silent entrance to her trembling palm. Glancing down and seeing the delicate blue lines that wove across the skin of the intruder, she opened her hand, welcoming Aang's grasp. He clasped her hand confidently, his expression far more mature than she had seen it in the past. It was clear that this was no representation of the juvenile crush she knew the boy possessed, but simply the solemn comforting of a friend in a dark moment. Both benders looked intently down on their interlocking fingers intently and the shaking of her hands quieted. Katara was about to speak when a noise from outside the hut startled her. She looked up to see Sokka coming through the entranceway, destroying all remnants of peace and silence in the room. He panted loudly, as if he had run a great distance, and the healers watched him with suspicion, turning quickly when he looked their way. Sokka did his best to quiet his labored breath, and allow the respectful silence he had chased away to return

Sokka struggled to maintain any air of collectedness as he passed by the healers, knowing well That every step he took was being scrutinized by biased eyes. Doing his best not to meet their gaze, he walked to Suki's side. She was much the way she had been when he had left, speaking less and taking shallower breaths, but still awaiting the same impending fate. He thought that Koh had been right: Suki was not faring well, but he was happy to simply see her alive. It wasn't too late.

"Sokka", Katara called him softly. He turned , examining her swollen eyes and the hand she shared with the boy beside her. With glance back at Suki, he stepped quickly to Katara and kneeled before her, his head bent low in the imitation or prayer and his voice barely above a whisper to keep his words with his sister private.

"I think I can help her," he said softly, and Katara looked wearily down at her brother. She felt so tired; tired waiting, and of sorrow, and of playing this wretched game with a boy who could not count his losses. Still, it was obvious to her that nothing made any difference now. Suki was gone, and Sokka was lost to her. Yet it seemed to her that one final indulgence and the realistic consequences that would be born from it could bring her brother back to reality, or, if nothing else, avoid conflict in the future and keep her from blame in her brother's eyes.

"How?" she asked simply, trying hard to dispel the anger and frustration that had plagued her the last time they had spoken. Sokka looked up, his eyes meeting with hers, and the moonlight shifted across his face. Katara reeled backwards, the hand that had once been in Aang's possession now rising to her mouth in alarm.

"What happened to your face, Sokka?" she asked him with frightened concern. She reached to touch the scars that now slid down his cheeks, cautious because of how fresh they would have to be, and curious because of how old they appeared. "What did you do?" she urged him.

"Yue said she could help her," Sokka ignored his sister's question. Expecting this, she let out a long, deep breath. She looked from her brother to the girl on the healing table and her expression softened. If he fought for this girl to the very end, perhaps he would not have as much regret for her fate at the end of it all.

"What do want me to do?" she asked, finally deciding to appease her brother. There was no more damage that could be done.

"Hold them off," he begged her, glancing over at the two women who watched them closely. She nodded and Sokka stood up, walking towards a still seated healer. She looked up as his shadow cast her in darkness, frowning at the boy.

"Where are my clothes?" Sokka asked her quietly. The woman looked about, but then soon gave up.

"They're still wet," she concluded, quickly looking down at her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"It doesn't matter," Sokka told her. She shrugged, thinking for a moment.

"I suppose they might be over there," she said and pointed to a basket with dirty linens. "But you'll catch your death if you put them on."

Sokka laughed bitterly to himself at the thought of such a fear and walked to the basket. It took him a moment of rummaging, but he eventually pulled out his own pair of pants. He reached into the pockets, pulling the contents out and replacing them in the pockets of his ill-fitted trousers, and then set the sopping fabric back with the rest. The woman watched him curiously, looking away when Sokka caught her gaze.

Sokka walked back to the healing table and looked down at Suki who was making small, lethargic movements as she glanced around at the healing hut. Her eyes opened and closed slowly, resting on him for only a moment before moving on, making him wonder if she had even seen him at all. Damp hair clung to her face, and Sokka gently brushed it away. One healer stood and watched him carefully, monitoring his movements. When Katara called the woman's name and distracted her, Sokka picked Suki up quickly in his arms and ran out the door. The healers were not quick enough to catch him but they yelled out at Sokka with anger and tried to run after them, but Katara and Aang were quick to block the doorway so that they could not pass.

"Get out of the way!" the woman yelled and tried to press past them, but they would not budge.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Katara told her. "If she dies at his hand now, would it be any different than if she died in an hour? He's doing more for her than we ever could!" The healer glared at the girl, but backed down. Katara looked back at Aang, with something almost akin to a smile. The battle had been won and all there was left to do was to wait for the end of the war.

x-x-x

Sokka hesitated as he reached the Oasis door, thinking once more on the possible outcomes of his actions, wondering for a brief moment if he was making the right choice. Would it be a better fate to simply allow Suki to die in peace? So much rested on Yue now, and his trust in her had vanished.

He looked down at Suki, realizing that he had no other options, and that, despite all that Koh had told him, Sokka felt that there was humanity in Yue's spirit. Though, if he was wrong, it would haunt him for the rest of his life, he decided that he had to do what he could to save the girl. He pulled the semi-conscious Suki close and held her, allowing himself, for a moment, to fear the worst. He then reached in his pocket, pulling out the moonstone, now transformed into a small charm, and untied the ribbon used to hold back his hair. After a few fumbling tries, Sokka threaded the ribbon through a small hole in the charm, creating a makeshift necklace.

He considered the charm for a moment, running his thumb over it crude carving in the center, the tied it loosely around the girl's wrist, thinking it unwise to touch her neck. It glinted in the moonlight, distracting Sokka momentarily. It was hard for him to move her, to let her go, but when she opened her eyes once more, watching him blankly, he knew he must. The boy then stood up and carried the girl through the porthole into the spirit oasis.

Yue was waiting for them at the center of the pond. Her face was expressionless as the approached, making her seem cold and intimidating.

Sokka stepped into the pond, letting the warm water creep up his legs as he walked towards its center. Yue stood proud and tall, not bothering to move closer as the two approached, but her eyes softened as Sokka brought the girl closer. He hadn't lied: she was in bad shape. Her burns left her skin misshapen and red and upon first glance she didn't even look human.

Yue looked back to Sokka and immediately regretted it. He watched her with such pleading eyes that she had to look away. The boy was a hopeless mess, his wet hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes muddy. Perhaps most striking of all were the pink scars that now marred his face.

Yue inhaled deeply. She could not think of these things—how terrible the girl looked, or how desperate the boy was—for this was her moment. It was her turn to seek her own desires. She was killing no one, but in fact giving immortal life, so there was nothing to feel ashamed of, she thought.

Suki looked up at Yue blindly, then closed her eyes once more.

x-x-x

Suki found herself within a ridiculous dream; the dream that one always knows is mere trickery of the mind, yet can't seem to escape regardless. She was certain she would laugh at the fantasy when she awoke, but while inside, her dream was unnerving. Everything within it seemed distantly familiar, yet menacing in its lack of mental placement.

She stood in what appeared to be a wetland, and great trees surrounded and encaged her, rising up into the sky, their roots making ominous archways over her head while their trunks hung high above her, waiting to topple. She eyed them wearily and stood silent and still.

The shallow water of the wetland tickled her ankles, rocking her back and forth with the water's motion; the humid air, suffocating her. Looking down, she found herself naked, yet was not plagued by mortal embarrassment. She was not afraid, nor did she feel the need to cover herself. Soon after another more curious realization came to her: she was standing, all by herself. She searched through her memories, and even in the most recent one she could muster, she had found it difficult to stand without pain and support, but there she was now, with neither. She would have smiled if it hadn't been so obvious that it was merely a dream created to mock her.

"Your name is Suki, Correct?" a voice asked, and Suki jumped, having not noticed the newcomer approach. She looked up at the source of the voice, and saw a girl she did not recognize.

Cautiously, Suki nodded, unsure as to whether or not she should return the question . The girl was as intimidating as she was beautiful, with long white hair and eyes filled with disdain, and Suki felt herself shrinking as the girl approached and covered herself with her arms as best she could.

"Where am I?" Suki asked. She was looking around now, looking for an escape route, or a rescuer—anywhere but those dark eyes.

"This is the spirit world" the girl said, and Suki looked down at herself once more.

"So I'm dead?" she asked, and the word weighed heavy on her chest. She had known this fate was coming-By this point she had welcomed and fabricated it-But now, as she spoke the word, she felt the smallest tinge of remorse. Death was so definitive. Unchangeable fates are often hard to face.

"no," the newcomer said as if she cared very little either way, "not just yet."

"You're a spirit?" Suki asked, and the girl nodded. "are you here to help me, then? To save me?" she asked, though she was fairly certain of her answer, just by looking at this spirit's face.

"I never said that," the spirit replied firmly. Suki took in a deep breath and nodded.

"If I'm not here to be saved," she began, trying he best to sound confident, "Then perhaps you could tell me where my sisters are? They left me quite some time ago, and I fear they found their way here."

"The matters of mortals are of no interest to me," the spirit responded coldly, "I have seen no one." Suki was unsure as to whether she should rejoice at this news, or be disappointed. It neither confirmed or disproved the deaths of her sisters, but it provided her with hope and a fresh supply of questions.

"If you don't care about mortals, then why bother speaking with me?" Suki asked. The spirit grimaced, and searched for a sharp-tongued answer.

"If you do not know already, then I suppose it's not my place to tell you," She said, but her words became unsure as her hatred began to soften. It was a difficult façade that she was a long way from mastering. She watched the girl for a moment, completely exposed to her, and looked down at herself. Somehow, despite her fine robes, her position of power over the girl, her feelings of superiority faded and pity rushed into her to replace it. She took Suki's arm, and pulled her down to kneel in the water with her. "look," she instructed.

Suki looked into the water, and saw nothing but her own reflection. And yet, it made her smile. In the reflection of the water, her skin was flawless, unmarred by burns and blisters. She reached up to touch her face, and it felt as smooth as a child's. the sensation was nice beneath her fingers, and was a welcome change from the sore and peeling roughness that had been there before. The spirit pulled her hand away.

"Look further," she instructed. "Beneath the water". Suki did as she was told, bending low towards the water and looking as far as she could. After a moment, the silt-base of the pond seemed to disintegrate, opening over what appeared to be small pond. At the center of the pond stood a boy, whom Suki later recognized as Sokka, holding out a large, bundled package to no one in particular.

"What's he holding?" Suki asked, narrowing her eyes and looking as hard as she could.

"You," the spirit said plainly. She stood and waited for the girl to follow suit, but Suki did not rise from the water. She tried to find her features in the image, but she could not. As it became clearer and clearer that this bundle in the boy's hands was in fact a human being, she could not, as hard as she tried, distinguish it as herself. She looked at it in awe, unable to believe what she saw before her, and finally understood why the healers had never let her see her reflection before. She choked, feeling sick. The spirit pulled her away from the image, and silt covered the hole.

"That's enough" the spirit told her, worried the mortal might start to cry and would make her loose her resolve. Suki looked down at the water where the hole had been. She touched her face absently, and then turned to the spirit.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why are you showing me this?"

"I'm Y-"The spirit stopped herself. "I am the Moon Spirit," She concluded firmly. She avoided answering the second question, and waited for recognition to dawn on the mortal, but none came. The spirit became disheartened, and the last remnants of hatred she had been saving to help her get through with what need to be done faded, but her original plan remained.

"May I ask you a question?" Suki asked. The spirit sighed.

"You may ask whatever you like, but I will answer at my will." She replied. This act of hers was becoming hard to keep up. She sat down on a large, low-hanging tree root, and waited. Koh had told her that the moment to act would present itself to her, though she knew not yet what signs she was looking for.

"I heard a story about you once," Suki said, "I just want to know if it's true."

"What is your question?" the spirit asked, anticipating a question about the previous moon spirit's acts that she would not be able to answer.

"Were you a mortal once?" Suki asked. The spirit was slow to respond as she looked for the answer within herself.

"I was" she said as she conjured the memories and realized how distant they seemed; "Once." She thought. "My name was Yue. They call me La now."

"And you took the moon spirit's place to save the mortal world?" Suki asked. The spirit nodded.

"That was very brave of you," Suki said.

"It was my duty. I had no choice." She said quietly. " I was not brave."

Suki shook her head. "You're stronger than most. That sacrifice isn't easy."

"I had no choice," Yue repeated.

"You did," Suki told her. Yue was quiet.

"It's not wise to argue with the spirits," Yue concluded bitterly, and Suki apologized.

"I have one more question," Suki admitted.

"you may not ask it," the spirit told her quickly, but Suki disregarded her.

"This is all because of Sokka, isn't it?" She asked softly, and the spirit stiffened. After a tense moment, she opened her mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it. Suki wheezed, the heavy air becoming more and more difficult for her lungs to grasp. She kneeled in the water, looking through her reflection to the silt bottom and let the ground give way before her eyes back to the pond—to her mortal form and to the boy. "He brought me here," she mused, "to ask for your help? " the stories all began to come together in her mind. Yue stood over the girl's shoulder, looking into the pond. A small detail caught her eye that she had not noticed before. She willed the item into her presence and a small carving strung on a ribbon appeared in her hand.

"Come here," Yue commanded. Suki did as she was told. Yue looked her over appraising her in her mind, when she noticed something glint at her wrist. She took the girl's hand and admired the charm she wore, clumsily tied to her wrist.

"What's this?" she asked, curious to see if the girl would even know. Suki looked down at the charm for the first time.

"It looks like Katara's necklace," Suki concluded in bewilderment.

"But it isn't." Yue responded, hearing the confusion in the mortal's voice.

"No," Suki agreed. "No, it's not. This carving is different." Her brow furrowed and she looked down at the water again. She kneeled and looked through her reflection at the boy in the pond and the unconscious bundle he held. Her mortal arms dangled away from her body, yet from her wrist she could see a small, glinting charm. She could not recall Sokka giving it to her, but the proof that he had was in her hand. She found herself smile as she admired what he had given her. She knew what it was for, of course. She had heard the old water tribe healers talk about it enough. Then she frowned. The spirit had told her that she was dying and would not help her. She did not wish to bring this boy any unhappiness, yet it seemed that she would with their unavoidable parting.

"I suppose he made it for me," she said, then stood up. She couldn't help but smile to herself a little over the gesture. Yue frowned as she felt her heart change. She couldn't do it.

"You will take care of him, won't you?" Her heart was breaking. She felt weak and spineless as she realized that she could not take anything for herself. She hadn't the strength to ensure her own happiness. She was breaking into pieces.

"I don't understand," Suki said.

"I want to make a deal with you," Yue replied.

-x-x-x-

Sokka stared intently at the blank expanse of water before him for what seemed like hours. He had promised Yue he would not leave, but the longer he stood alone with Suki in his arms, the more he started to dread that He would stand there for eternity, and to no avail. Eventually, Sokka's arms grew numb, and the warm oasis air made him drowsy. Suki's body dipped slightly into the water, but did not stir. Still, Sokka's eyes did not move from the spot where Yue had vanished, willing her to return.

When Suki opened her eyes, he did not notice, nor when she lifted her head to look up at him, but when she spoke, he nearly dropped her in surprise. Suki laughed. Softly at first, unsure of her mortal body, then louder as reality began to set in around her. Sokka began to laugh with her, as he filled with thankfulness and relief. He let her slide from his arms into a standing position and quickly pulled her into a tight embrace. They laughed together for a long moment before Suki pulled away to look at her reflection in the pond. It was then that she finally stopped laughing. Where she had expected to see the face of the warrior she had been before this ordeal, she instead saw a face marred by pale and faded scars. The marks were minor compared to the raw and blistered surface that had been her complexion only moments before, but it unnerved her none the less. She would never be allowed to forget.

Sokka noticed Suki's distant gaze at the pond and took her hand, smiling at her softly.

"Come on," he said, pulling her away from her distorted image, "The others will want to know you're alright, too." Suki looked up at the boy and saw the scars that ran down either side of his face, but decided against asking him about them, at least for the moment, as he had been kind enough not to mention her own.

"You can walk alright?" Sokka checked, and Suki, taking a few steps forward, nodded.

"Yes," she told him, "And thank you. For whatever you did." Sokka nodded, never really planning to tell her.

-x-x-x-x-

That night, Sokka felt as though he were the only individual in the entire northern hemisphere that was sleeping fitfully. While his companions lay amongst him with contented smiles, satisfied with the unexpected results of their journey, Sokka lay awake, tortured by the thought that all was not as well as it seemed. He feared Koh, whom he had given eternal life in the hopes of saving Yue and Suki, and felt guilty to Yue for the grief and sacrifice he had caused her. Finally, he feared his own future with such a severely shortened lifespan. The length of time he could live ranged widely. He had no idea of his natural expiration date, but could imagine that it ranged anywhere between the ages of thirty and one hundred and twenty (which was a steep age that few in his tribe had lived to see). At the highest severity of his sacrifice, this could mean he could die anywhere between tomorrow and the age of sixty for no apparent cause at all. Kyoshi, however had not said for certain that his life had been fully cut in half. Koh could have merely taken a quarter, or an eighth. Soon, Sokka lost all idea of what he could expect from this bargain. He hoped that eventually it would be a fate that he could accept as others, he concluded, had lost far worse. It was when he considered Suki and thought of the future that he once again thought of this sacrifice as unfair. Not to him, perhaps, but to Suki, if she agreed to marry him once he, some day in the distant future, explained the necklace to her, or to whomever he may marry if she were to refuse. Despite how careful he might be, he could die at any time and no longer be able to provide for her or their children. At this, he became especially solemn. Sokka had experienced life missing a parent, and would want to always be there for his children if he had any. His bargain could hurt far more than just him.

Sokka wondered if she should simply avoid these types of close relationships with people to avoid causing any more grief. For a moment, the idea struck that he should become a monk, but when he realized he would be forced to suffer an existence devoid of women _and_ meat, he quickly reconsidered.

Suki stirred beside him, and Sokka watched her intently. He wondered what had changed Yue's mind to help her. Whatever it was, he was immensely grateful to her. He supposed that no matter what Yue had chosen to do he would have understood her reasoning, though it wouldn't have kept him from being too upset and disappointed in her to never speak with her again.

Yet, she had done what was right (or at least right by the boy), and he had not even been able to thank her. The rising sun was stretching its golden fingers out over the sky, signaling that the moon spirit's job was done for the night, as Sokka sat up and surveyed the others. They all still appeared to be sound asleep underneath their furs. He stood up, walked quietly to the doorway of the healing hut, and left. Suki watched him as he left, but said nothing to stop him.

This new walk to the oasis was brisk and awkward. He was so used to sneaking around that it was strange to feel like a free man again. He got none of the terrible looks from the villagers he had gotten the night before, and could only assume that word traveled fast of his victory. Soon they'd mess with the story and turn it into some legend, he thought. One in which he was twenty years old, eight feet tall, and the chief of his tribe.

When Sokka reached the oasis, he did not hesitate to enter. He wasn't frightened of Yue as he might have once been. She had proven that, deep down, she was incapable of intentionally bringing any harm to others. However angry she became with him for returning, she would do nothing to the boy.

The oasis was much the way it had always been; warm and calm with the koi circling each other at equal distances. As things returned to their natural state in the real world, so did it seem the same in the world of the spirits. Before Sokka could call out to Yue, her voice rang out darkly behind him.

"What do you want from me?" she asked. Sokka turned to see her sitting at the corner of the oasis by the cairn her father had mode for her. Her skin was translucent, making her almost blend in entirely with her surroundings. "I've given you everything. What more could you ask for?"

"I just wanted thank you," Sokka replied , cautiously stepping towards her.

"Well now you have," she told him tersely, "and now you can leave."

"Please, Yue," he begged her to listen, "I never meant to hurt you, I-"

"You didn't," she interrupted.

"But I-"

"This isn't about you, Sokka!" she told him. "You shouldn't thank me, because I did nothing for _you_. I did it because I was too weak to take anything for myself."

"Being selfless isn't a weakness," Sokka told her and took a seat by her side.

"But not knowing when to stop is," she replied.

"I see," Sokka said knowingly. "I wasn't worth it anymore."

"Don't act like you were so betrayed," she sighed. "You know very well that in the end, it wasn't about me either. Whatever you did to convince Koh to give my face back, you did it for your own benefit—so I would be around to give you what you wanted."

"Do you really believe that?" Sokka asked her. Yue sat stubbornly for a long moment.

"No," her voice was suddenly quiet, her head hung. Her anger had been all that had kept her going. "You're leaving today, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he told her. "Soon. We have to find Aang a firebending teacher and prepare for the eclipse."

"Yes, I suppose that's wise," Yue replied. She thought silently for a moment. "You know you can never come back here, don't you?"

"Why?" Sokka asked, though he did not sound surprised.

"I think it'd be for the best," Yue told him. "If you ever came back, I don't think I'd remember you."

"So this is goodbye, then? For good?" Sokka questioned, and Yue laughed.

"You'll find your way into the spirit world again someday. Everyone does," Yue said, and Sokka cringed. Perhaps this day would be far sooner than she had planned.

"But until then," Sokka began, "Why don't you spend a little time with Tui?"

"Tui?" Yue sounded incredulous.

"Yeah," Sokka shrugged. "I think he'd like that. And I'm sure he'd keep better company than Koh."

"Perhaps," Yue said as she thought on it, then looked up at the sky. "It's getting late," she said. "You'll be leaving soon." Sokka followed her gaze.

"You're right. Everyone's probably wondering where I am by now." He told her, and he began to feel uncomfortable and awkward beside her. "I ought to get going." Yue nodded and agreed.

It was difficult saying goodbye willingly this time, both knowing they had their own very separate lives to lead and that their paths would never again cross, at least in Sokka's mortal lifetime. They had sacrificed so much for each other; had hated and loved each other. Now, they were forced to separate and face their futures alone. They embraced one last time and pretended that their feelings were strictly platonic. Yue bid the boy farewell, and Sokka left the oasis for the last time.

-x-x-x-

When Sokka returned to the hut he and his friends had been staying at, he found that his companions were all up, and busy preparing for their long, southern journey. They all seemed to be in a strikingly good mood, smiling at Sokka as he entered rather than reprimanding him for sneaking off so early in the morning. Katara was singing a popular Northern Watertribe song she had picked up over their stay, and Aang was singing along with her, making Katara's mediocre voice sound beautiful in comparison. Suki and Toph laughed loudly as the other two fumbled over the words of the second verse, Toph being too tough to ever be caught singing, and Suki waiting for the chorus to sing along with what she remembered. Sokka laughed the loudest of all as he walked in on the scene of unbridled relief in which his companions were expelling all of the negative energy they had bottled up since the beginning of their journey. It was just a moment of happiness, brief as it was uplifting, that they enjoyed before re-entering a tiresome war.

Katara smiled knowingly at her brother, having seen the charm Suki was now wearing around her neck, and tossed Sokka his sack, and he began to pack up his things. Suki helped him, having already finished with her own packing. Occasionally, she looked up from their team effort and smiled warmly at him. He whistled along with Katara and Aang's song. Toph groaned with mock revulsion.

"I'm glad you're warriors and not musicians," Toph commented, still too stubborn and amused to join in on the music. Sokka nearly threw the shoe he was holding at her in playful reply, but stopped himself just before he did, deciding that an aerial attack on the blind might be less than fair.

When their packing was finished, the group of five walked to the healing hut and thanked the healers once more for their help and concern, then thanked the chief for giving them a place to stay. Once they had said all of their obligatory good-byes, the group put their luggage on Appa's back and began their journey back to the earth kingdom. They talked amongst themselves, telling jokes and stories, no one daring to speak of what had happened the past few weeks, instead focusing on any time of happiness that they could recall in order to prolong this feeling relief and victory.

This kind of chatter went on for quite some time before their laughter slowly began to fade away, and their bright smiles dimmed with lack of conversation. The euphoric feeling ebbed away, and the group was left to think to themselves on darker topics. Aang worried about his current inability to reach the avatar state, while Katara fretted over how they would enter the fire nation. Sokka pondered what he would possibly be able to do on the battlefields with no bending of his own, and Toph wasted no time concerning her mind with anything, preferring to drift off to sleep in Appa's saddle instead.

Suki, however, was the only who could not seem to look forward. She was still trying so hard to adjust to what she had experienced in the past few weeks and how it would affect her for the rest of her life. She had made a promise, and now she owed her life to the moon. Should the unspeakable ever happen, she would have to give it back.

* * *

End.

(A/N: so….I got a review on this story today all out of the blue, and felt a little guilty that I had never finished it. But I knew I had a draft of the last chapter somewhere, thinking it was maybe a couple of pages and that over time I could just finish this thing so I never had to look at it again. But when I went to go check on this draft, I realized it was pretty much the complete final chapter, and I had just never bothered to post it. So here you go! I don't know if anyone will read this, or even remembers this story when it pops up in their feed [Goodness, I had even forgotten what happened in this story for the most part] but at least it's done now, and I don't have to feel bad about never having completed it. Thanks for all the support it had at the beginning there! I started this thing as a freshman in high school, and I'm finishing it now as a Sophomore in college. It's been fun. Thanks again! Sorry I totally forgot to post this! )


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